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random-imagines-blog · 2 years

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Reservoir {Jonathan Crane x Anxious!Reader}

Requested by: Anonymous Wordcount: 2492 Summary: Jonathan keeps asking you, his partner, to move in with him. You finally tell him the reason why you keep saying no. Warnings: Contains mental illness, anxiety, vomiting, degrading thoughts.

Jonathan had asked again. This is the third time this month that he had brought up you moving in with him. The fifth time that he had come into your apartment and sneered at how he could hear the neighbors through the thin walls, how your sink never ran right - the water trickling more than ever spewing but the landlord never sent the maintenance man, and how the floorboards weren’t level and he always felt how wonky it was beneath his feet. He hated coming to your place. But it was much easier for him to get to from work than it was for you to get to his own large house. He always thought about how he could fit this whole apartment in his living room. You wouldn’t have to deal with any landlords. The neighbors were far and few between. But you kept on rejecting him. He had hoped third time was the charm. But it wasn’t. You said no once more, and he couldn’t take not finding out more this time.

He could be patient. It came with his profession. Be patient with the patients. But you were not his patient, you were his partner and maybe for some that might mean that they would exercise more of it, but not to Jonathan. You should be more willing to open up to him than a criminal would be. But you had just given excuses so far about your lease, while knowing very well that Jonathan could handle your landlord if he tried to give you shit for breaking it.

“Y/N...” He said, smoothly. His voice was like butter. He knew how it affected you when it was low. He could see the little hairs on your arm stand straight up. The way that your lower lip curled inwards beneath your teeth. “Why don’t you tell me the truth? Open up and let me help you. Let me ... soothe your fears.”

This was coming from a man who usually increased them inside of relatively sane people.

“Jonathan, Jonny,” You said, nervously, using the nickname that only he allowed you to use. It wasn’t one that was usually brought out in a romantic context. It was out of a place of worry. He set down the knife and fork that he was using to cut through the dinner that you had so graciously made him after a long day at work and gave you his full attention. He knew how much you hated that. It made you feel like he was evaluating you. And right now he was, not even trying to hide it, but you swallowed that feeling and carried on. “I’m - I’m not well. And - and living with me is hard and-”

“I’m aware,” he cut you off. “I have noticed your behavior, but I ask you anyway."

Of course he had noticed. How could his nonstop-working Doctor brain not pick up on your anxiety? He had even offered to write you a prescription before, but you had always said no. So he had been working on other tactics with you. Breathing. Holding onto his hands and catching eyes. Developing little signals for one another in public. If your middle finger grazed the middle of his palm, that meant that you were done for the night and you needed to go. But whenever he dropped you off at home and made his way back to his own house, he always wondered if there was something more.

“I know, I know,” You said, looking stressed out. He folded his hands together and leaned forward. He was giving you his full attention. He couldn’t help looking so ... well, Dr Crane like. That’s just who he was. But it was because with you, unlike most of his other patients, he really did want to help. He wanted to know what made you tick. And then to take it out with a pair of tweezers to examine it outside of you. “I’m just scared that once you know everything, you’re not going to love me anymore. And then - and then I’ll be all alone again-”

“That’s not a good enough reason to keep it from me,” Jonathan said quietly, slowly, cutting you off yes but trying to get reassure you. You could talk yourself into a frenzy if he let you. He had let you before. And you had gone off to the bathroom to assumedly calm down while he had taken you out to dinner. He was no Bruce Wayne but his name held enough weight that he had taken you to a nice table at a good restaurant.

“I’m trying here, Jonny, can you let me talk?" You asked. And then he watched you shrink. The way that you spoke to him not only startled him but yourself as well.

“The table is yours,” He would say, remaining calm and collected. The only movements were to adjust the glasses on his face, the better to see you with. Sometimes you felt calm under that gaze, and other times, you felt like he was going to swallow you up. But it wasn’t unnerving. Sometimes you just wanted to be swallowed so that you wouldn’t have to FEEL these things anymore.

“Thank you,” You shifted in your seat. “And could you maybe just - just be here for me as a human being right now? One person to another? Not a doctor and not a patient? It’s - it’s hard enough...”

“I’m whatever you might need me to be. Take your time.” He would sit there for as long as it took to get an answer because you saying no? It had brought up his own insecurities. The bullying that he had went through when he was a kid. Getting called Scarecrow because of how thin he had been. He sure showed them. And he wanted you to show the source of your insecurities that you, too, were strong. His food might grow cold, his drink would go to room temperature, none of it mattered.

“My anxiety makes me - makes me-” You started. You looked away from him now. He didn’t look away from you. You felt ashamed. He wouldn’t let you. “It gets so bad that it makes me sick, Jonny. Physically sick. I go to the bathroom and I throw up. I wish - I wish I just cried but it gets so bad that I - like when we were at the restaurant and I was gone for so long. I was puking my guts up. And when you take me home after one of your Doctor galas, I manage to hold it in and then I get home and I let it out. It’s so disgusting, and that’s not even the worst part.”

You still couldn’t look at him. He had given you the table. He wasn’t saying anything until you were done, and clearly - you weren’t. In fact, you were looking a little green now. And the words started to spew out as if it were that vomit you were talking about. Out over the table, over the food, filling the room, filling his ears.

“And then I get so freaked out by it. I scare myself even more when I have that reaction, I get these panic attacks and it’s a horrible, horrible cycle. It’s pathetic. It’s disgusting. And - and I don’t want you to ever see me like that.”

He still didn’t say anything. You finally looked over in his direction and saw him sitting there, looking calm. You never had the ability to read what was going on inside of his mind. Which at this moment - he was only thinking of ways to help you. Behavioral therapy. Medications. Getting down to the source. He had a hundred questions. What happened if you did not eat. Have you ever vomited in public. Had anyone ever seen you like this before. Would not being alone make things better - or worse?

“I’m scared. I’m - terrified,” You continued on after a heavy moment of silence. “You should just break up with me. I would, if I were you. This was never going to work. This was why I was too scared to tell you. This is why I never should have - why couldn’t you have just let things be?”

He cleared his throat across from you, and you finally looked up at him again, right into his blue eyes. He held his hands out to you. Reluctantly, you took them.

“Can I have the table?” He would finally ask. You nodded, giving him the control. Giving him his mouth back, although he could have used it at any time. It was one of his techniques. Giving you plenty of uninterrupted time. “You’re not pathetic. You’re not disgusting. All of that is your anxiety talking - your fear.”

“You’re a doctor, you have to say that,” You said, sniffling as your anxiety rose once more. You could feel the food that you had just eaten churning inside of your stomach. “Am I just going to be a patient to you now or-”

“Move in with me,” Jonathan said, more insistently this time. You must not have expected this question because a look of surprise went across your face, making him hold on tighter.

“But I just - I just said-”

“I know what you said,” Jonathan said, calming his voice down again. “Move in with me. My house has three bathrooms, you won’t be cramped up in a small one like yours. I can help you there, y/n. I love you.”

All that you could do was repeat ‘but’ over and over again. Until finally something else came up. You had to let go of him. You clapped your hand over your mouth as the anxiety took over. You got up, knocking over the chair in the process and ran towards your own bathroom, so small it was. One couldn’t turn without bumping into something. Your elbow hit the corner of the sink harshly as you fell upon your knees in front of the toilet, releasing the contents of your stomach into it.

And he was behind you. He did not run at a frantic pace. He did not hurry, for he knew what awaited him in your bathroom. There was not room for him to kneel behind you or to hold your hair back, but he found a space sitting on the lip of the bathtub, the curtain pushed to the side. He ran his long fingers up and down your back as you struggled for breath. Having him there was a cursing and a blessing. You really did not want him to see you like this. You didn’t want him to see how pathetic and disgusting and how horribly low your mental illness could make you become. But it was also comforting. You wouldn’t choke to death alone in your bathroom. That was another fear that you had. That Jonny, your friends, your boss, your landlord would come looking for you and find you curled up, deceased, on the bathroom floor, surrounded by your own vomit.

“I know you’re anxious,” Jonny said, his hand going up your back. You could feel it through the fabric of your shirt. “I know. And it’s okay. You are okay.”

As reassuring as his words might be, they were not helping. You did not feel okay. You didn’t feel like you deserved him. Or anything. Love. Affection.

He could see that his words weren’t having the affect that he wanted, so he went to another method.

“Do you remember the first function that you came to?” He asked, leaning forward and rubbing at the back of your neck. “Bruce Wayne was in attendance. He had brought those two women with him. Dancers from the ballet?”

“How could I forget?” You asked, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. You couldn’t face him. Not until you had your mouth completely rinsed out with mouth wash. You were panting, beads of unattractive sweat lining your forehead. “I felt like the ugliest person in Gotham for two weeks. Until you pointed out that....”

“Yes?” Jonathan encouraged.

“-that Bruce Wayne doesn’t even have the lips to kiss those girls, they’re too thin,” You said, and despite all that you were feeling, you were smiling. Jonny didn’t usually show a sense of humor to the world. Outside of you, he was Dr. Jonathan Crane. Serious psychiatrist, hardly ever seen with a smile.

“That’s right. Thinner than I am,” He said with a little chuckle. “Do you remember what I told you about those girls?”

“That I’m worth ten of them,” You muttered. “But how, I - even when I’m - a mess like this?”

“You can’t control when you get sick. They’re just bulimics,” He said, casually. “You - you’re something special. So move in with me. Then at least I’ll have the room to be able to hold you afterwards.”

“Are you sure?”

“One hundred percent.”

You weren’t going to kiss him. But after a quick check to make sure that you didn’t get any of your ... mess on yourself, you turned to give him a hug. He hadn’t been anticipating that and the both of you fell into the bathtub, you uncomfortably on top, him even more so underneath. His arms immediately went around you to make sure that you wouldn’t hurt yourself.

Once you both got over the surprise of what had happened, you started to laugh. Normally that would feel impossible under such circumstances. Normally it would take you hours to even out. To even be able to smile. But with Jonny, with his glasses knocked askew on his face, with that look of shock on his face, you couldn’t stop the giggles once they had started to emerge. And then even he had let out a couple of chuckles while trying to maneuver you off of him so that he could get up. His striped socks were on display, flayed up in the air, his shoe having come off during the ‘attack’.

“Okay,” You said, managing to climb out and offered him a hand. “Okay. Yes. I’ll move in with you.”

“Good,” Jonathan said, using your help to get back onto his feet. “My bathtub is bigger. There won’t be the risk of getting a concussion every time that you hug me.”

You went to the sink and started with brushing your teeth, finishing with a big mouthful of Listerine while he adjusted his glasses and pulled down his trousers to cover his socks once more, slip his foot back into his patent leather shoe. “Are you really going to be okay with seeing more difficult sides of me, Jonny? I don’t want to remind you of work.”

“You’re not work. You’re y/n. There’s a clear line of separation,” He said, turning you now that you were all clean to face him. Arm around your waist. “But I will help you nonetheless. We’ll get you better. Together.”

#Jonathan Crane #Jonathan Crane x reader #Jonathan Crane oneshot #Scarecrow #Scarecrow x reader #Scarecrow oneshot #DC #DC oneshot #x reader #oneshot #one shot #request #jonathanc

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pagesoflauren · 2 years

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Wooden Façade (3/4)

feat. lumberjack!Ari Levinson x reader; Andy Barber

Premise: Andy Barber is an acting district attorney in Boston, but was raised in the western Massachusetts town of Barber with his parents who run a lumber business, and his younger brother, Ari. Estranged from his family, he decides to help by hiring you as a personal nurse and caretaker of his aging mother. However, Ari, stubborn and prideful, doesn’t take your employment kindly.

Warnings: angst; mention/discussion of neurodegenerative diseases (specifically Parkinson’s disease); swearing; Ari is a hot, stubborn, sexy lumberjack (yes, he’s a warning)

A/N: A little late for Valentine's Day, but this chapter revolves are that :) as always, thanks @eightcevanscentral ✌🏽

Masterlist

Wooden Façade Masterlist

Ari didn’t realize the time of day until all the sunlight had disappeared and he couldn’t read the pages in front of him anymore. His team had all clocked out less than an hour ago; he decided to stay and finish up some work.

He gruffly gets up and pulls the blinds down, then makes his way over to the other side of the room to turn on the light.

With the pile of work still on his desk, he sighs and picks up his phone to call the house.

“Hello?” you answer, “Hold-hold on, Marcella, please.”

He can hear his mother in the background indistinctly saying something.

Since her last outburst, you brought both of them to her doctor’s office to inquire if her medication needed to be adjusted to prevent any more incidents from happening. There’s been a huge improvement and her mental state has stabilized, with a few difficulties still occurring.

“Everything okay?” Ari asks.

“Yes,” you sigh, keeping your voice even. “Marcella’s just been needing a little more attention than usual today.”

You were always so delicate with how you talked about her and you never let it show in your tone that you were feeling any kind of annoyance or frustration. He doesn’t know how you summon the patience to do that, especially after the incident last week.

You took it all in stride, seeming to have completely forgotten it when she woke up again and had no recollection of what had happened. When she asked about your cheek, you lied easily, saying you tripped outside. Then, you immediately called her doctor to discuss what to do.

Turns out a simple adjustment to the original prescription would make a world of difference. Things almost felt normal again, though the need for a companion was ever-present in her now.

“Well, I was just calling to let you know that I’ll be late…”

“Yes, I see it, Marcella, it looks wonderful,” you say to her, then address him again, “Sorry, Ari, you’re gonna be late?”

“Yeah…unless I should come home?”

“No, no, I…” you sigh. “Um, I have everything under control, I just have to find something that she can do while I cook dinner.”

“You haven’t cooked yet?”

“I haven’t had the chance to. She’s wanted to do so much–oh!” you startle and he worries for a moment. “Yes, I’ll be right there,” you address her again. “Um, I’ll let her know you’re gonna be late, Ari. Try to come home before she goes to bed, though. You know how much she likes hugging you goodnight.”

“Okay.”

He doesn’t get much of a chance to say anything else when the call ends abruptly. He figures it’s because his mother really needed you for whatever reason.

He looks down at the pile of papers but doesn’t give them a second thought. Gathering his things, he shuts the light off, arms the security system, and heads out to his truck, driving downtown to one of his mother’s favorite restaurants.

“Good evening, will you be dining in or doing a carry-out order?”

“Carry-out,” he answers, taking the menu handed to him and scanning over the options. He knows what to order for himself and his mother, but what to get for you doesn’t come to mind immediately.

He can feel his face pull together as he thinks really hard, trying to summon any kind of memory of something you mentioned that you like eating.

His mother cuts you a look, narrowing her eyes at you suspiciously. You mimic her face, squinting your own eyes before the two of you share a small laugh.

Ari finds himself smiling at the brightness in your face and how quickly it changes to match his mother again as she refocuses her gaze on the chess pieces in front of you. You’re a great challenge to her; a much better player than himself.

She makes her move, then you give her a guilty smile, pushing your black queen straight across the board to capture her white king.

“Checkmate,” you laugh and wrinkle your nose as she screams in excitement.

“My goodness!” She turns to him. “Ari, did you see?!”

“I did, mama,” he nods, looking at you again. “Good job, bunny rabbit.” You smile gracefully, gathering the remaining pieces on the board and setting them aside before flipping the board over to put them away.

“You deserve a reward for that!” she claps. “What will you have?”

“Hm,” you tap your chin in playful thought. “I think I will have coq au vin and garlic bread,” you tease. “I’m kidding. Maybe we can bake a pie later,” you offer while placing the last of the pieces in the case, folding the board and clasping it shut. “Would you like that?”

His mother nods enthusiastically, mentioning the apples that are in perfect shape to be used in a pie.

Ari has no idea what the fuck coke-oh-Vaughn is, but he does know garlic bread. And he knows it’s on the menu at this restaurant.

Upon looking it up on his phone, he vows he will never go through the mental gymnastics of learning how to speak French because whatthefuckisthatspelling and there’s no way a locally-owned restaurant is going to have the means to prepare it, so he settles for getting you chicken stew and potatoes.

He drives home carefully, making sure the takeout containers don’t topple over, especially on the dirt road leading to the cabin.

The cold bites at his cheek and nose when he leaves his car and makes his way into the house, lugging the large bag at his side.

He finds you on the couch, reading aloud as Marcella crochets in her favorite chair, the one that’s been passed down through the past five generations.

“Ari!” she exclaims, throwing her work aside and practically leaping from her seat.

“Marcella, careful–!” you jump up urgently, reaching out for her.

“Oh, stop fussing, dear,” she waves you off, making her way around the furniture to walk to him. Ari opens his free arm to hug her. “Goodness, your jacket is cold,” she remarks as she rubs her cheek that was pressed into the heavy, protective fabric. “It must be freezing out there! Do we have wood for the heater?”

“Yes, there’s more than enou–”

She cuts him off, reaching for the bag, “What’s that?”

“It’s dinner,” he explains to his mother but looks at you, a certain happiness settling into his chest as he sees you smile and drop your shoulders in relief.

As the three of you eat dinner, this time with Ari sitting across from his mother while you sit next to her, she recounts her day and mentions her excitement about Valentine’s Day coming up.

When he can, Ari can’t help but steal a glance at you, smiling and listening to his mother so intently as if you weren’t there during every menial second of the day or haven’t heard her plans yet.

You help clear the table and set the dishes in the sink to wash before prompting his mother to say goodnight and go upstairs to start her evening routine.

She hugs him tightly, forcing him to lean down to accept a kiss on his cheek.

“Thank you for dinner, I love you,” she coos.

“I love you, too, mama.”

He makes quick work of the dishes, scrubbing them clean and placing them on the drying rack. Some water drops fly onto the counter from his movements, but he scowls when he sees two books on the counter.

Wiping his hands, he grabs a dishrag and passes it over the covers, making sure there’s no remaining residue on them. Then, he reads the titles, not recognizing them as any books his mother would read.

Craning his neck to look at the coffee table, he finds three other books of similar size, which he deduces are all yours.

He places the two in his hand on the dining table and gathers the other three from the coffee table to add to the stack. Another one is tucked away on the other side of the counter while a seventh one was hidden on top of the fridge.

Suddenly, Ari finds himself grabbing his jacket again and running out to the woodshed to retrieve a suitable plank and a half-used packet of shelving brackets. Bringing everything back into the house and shedding his jacket, he finds his drill and screws and heads into your room.

- - -

“Oh, oops, your shirt’s on backwards!” you point out with a giggle, reaching for Marcella to help her.

Every day you grow fonder of her and you understand the love her sons have for her. You were sad when it dawned on you that you would never witness what she and her husband were like together.

You hear the whirring of what sounds like a drill downstairs, but you don’t have time to investigate because Marcella asks for your help into bed.

Holding her under her arms to support her, you move carefully until she’s laying on her back. You tuck her in as the drill goes off again, looking at Marcella as she speaks, “Oh that boy,” she rolls her eyes. “He never stops working, I swear.”

“What could he be working on right now?” you wonder as you fluff her pillow.

“Oh anything, honestly,” she flips her hand in a gesture of something between fondness and annoyance. “He’s always finding things wrong with the house and fixing them. Even if it’s the tiniest thing, he’ll fix it.”

You chuckle, “Nothing bad about wanting your ancestral home to always be in top shape.”

“Well, there’s always time to put it in shape,” she rebuttals and you can tell she’s getting sleepier. “I don’t see why he has to do it right as I’m trying to get some sleep.”

Finishing up your touches with her beddings to ensure her comfort, you find her hand and squeeze it. “I’ll ask him to stop and save it for later so you can rest.”

“Thank you, dear,” she says, bringing your hand to her lips and pressing a small kiss there. “You sleep well now.”

“You too.”

Letting go of her hand, you get up and shut off the light before exiting her room. There’s some movement down below, and when you reach the bottom of the stairs, you immediately notice that your books are missing from the coffee table in the living area.

You assume the worst: That lumberjack-ass better not be back to his old petty ways. I swear to God if my books are in the heater…

You march into the hallway and approach his room, keeping your breath even to confront him calmly.

To your surprise, his room is empty, but there’s noise coming from your room. A shuffling sound, like something heavy is being moved.

Making your way over there, you’re surprised to find Ari moving your dresser into the corner where it’s supposed to be–as if he had moved it and was putting it back where it belongs. When you look at the wall above him, you find a shelf with all of your books neatly lined up on top.

Ari senses your presence and turns to look at you, looking uncomfortably caught in an unfavorable situation, fidgeting with his hands nervously.

He uses his thumb to point to his project, “I built you a bookshelf.”

He says it so matter-of-factly that you could laugh, but you’re too taken aback by what he did.

You’d only been with Marcella for an hour, maybe a little less.

“I can see that,” is all you manage to say with a nod, your body still stiff in surprise.

Ari looks at you, then back to the shelf, then back to you. He clears his throat and puts his hands in his pockets. “Well, goodnight.”

You stand there, bewildered, but still move out of the way when he begins to exit. Before he gets too far, you reach for him, just managing to catch his hand in yours.

His head snaps back and he looks startled and you think it’s strange that his hand feels so hot and clammy in yours.

“Thank you,” you say, looking up at him, hopeful that he’ll say something.

He gulps. “Yeah, sure.”

He pulls his hand from your grip, and you watch as he heads down the hall and goes into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.

You huff incredulously, grabbing your doorknob and closing your door as you turn slowly until your back is resting against it and you can look straight ahead at the bookshelf.

You run the fingertips of your opposite hand over your palm, feeling a tingle where it touched his hand. Butterflies erupt in your stomach and you blush like a teenager.

- - - - -

Every once in a while, Ari remembers the feeling of your hand in his.

His hands are tough; callused and tractioned from working with his hands daily. His fingertips are hardened and his palms are brutish almost to the point where he no longer feels splinters.

Your hands were soft. They were so small as you attempted to wrap them around his fingers, and they were so warm, gentle. There was a certain delicacy about them, something so precise about your movements and it’s no secret as to why: you’re a nurse.

You use your hands to care for others, he uses his to lift and build.

His palm tingles as he thinks about it, staring at them idiotically as he tries to sort through paperwork in the office.

“What, you never seen hands before?” Sammy quips.

Closing his fist, Ari doesn’t dignify him with a response and returns to the task at hand. But also, he doesn’t want to admit any of his thoughts about you.

“Shred these when you get the chance,” is all he replies.

Looking at the clock, he realizes it’s way past lunchtime and he hasn’t taken a break yet all day. He goes to the fridge and finds the lunch for him you made and packaged last night.

“It’s called meal prepping,” you said, stacking the Tupperwares neatly in the fridge. “You can just grab whichever one you want. Marcella and I will eat whatever you leave behind. And if there’s something you want me to make more of, you can let me know.”

You laughed to yourself. “Just don’t ask me to make those cinnamon rolls from the bakery on Fairview street. I haven’t figured that out yet.”

He was impressed with how quickly you made yourself a member of the household. What his mother could do, you let her with supervision. The more labor-intensive tasks that needed a high level of attention were the ones you completely took over.

Cooking, cleaning, driving, and shopping; you did it all with a smile and never any complaints.

You kept his mother entertained, too. You played chess and did puzzles, you read on the couch while she crocheted in her favorite chair. You made jokes and explained complex, winding storylines of TV shows and films so patiently.

The microwave beeping when his food was finished heating up startled him, still so wrapped up in all his thoughts about you.

“You’ve been out of it lately, Ari,” Sammy points out over the sound of the shredder.

“Got a lot on my mind,” he dismisses.

Moving to the table they use for meetings, he takes a seat at the head and begins stirring his food around to release the steam and fragrance of the beef stew and potatoes.

His mouth waters and shit he couldn’t be happier right now.

His bubble is popped as hears a chair scoot up extremely close to him, looking up through his lashes and finding Jake sitting there with a stupid smile on his face as his head is propped on his fist.

“‘A lot,’ you say?” he begins.

“Don’t.”

“What could possibly be occupying so much space in your head?”

“Jake,” Ari bites, pointing his fork at him threateningly, “Don’t you fucking start.”

“Alright, alright,” he relents, moving his chair back to a more respectable distance. “I’m just saying: you’re not subtle.”

Again, Ari won’t dignify little teases and jabs from his friends. Instead, he begins to eat, his eyes fluttering shut at the taste that floods in his mouth.

Whatever Andy’s paying her, it’s not enough, he thinks.

“By the way,” Jake says, “What time should my dad be at your house on Friday?”

“Why is your dad coming to the house on Friday?” Ari demands with a full mouth.

Sammy’s face scrunches in disgust, “Ugh, do you do that at home? That’s an easy way to guarantee that she’ll never go for you.”

Ari rolls his eyes before calling Jake and shrugging at him, urging him to answer his question.

He mumbles a response into his water bottle before taking a sip.

“What?”

“My dad…” he begins, but then it becomes unintelligible.

“What?”

“My dad’s gonna … to dinner.”

“Jake,” he grits out, articulating every single sound in his name. “Enunciate.”

“My dad’s taking your mom to dinner.”

Ari nearly flips the table.

- - -

“Son–”

Ari rolls his eyes; she only addresses him that way when she’s annoyed with him, “Mama, really? Jake Wolf’s dad of all the men in this town?”

“He’s a lovely man,” she says plainly, not looking up from her card game with you. “Would you rather I date Jake?” It’s hard to miss her sarcasm as she places a Draw Four card and you and Ari both facepalm for different reasons.

“Damn it!” you laugh, begrudgingly picking up four cards from the draw pile and sighing with a head shake.

Marcella chortles, watching you place another card down.

“Do you think she should do this?” Ari addresses you.

You shrug, wrinkling your nose, “I don’t see why not.” You cut him a look as his mother plans her next move. “We ran into him at the grocery store and he was very kind. I think it’ll be nice for her to go out.”

“Yeah, son,” she urges, “let me have a little fun!” She punctuates her sentence with a shimmy and you laugh unabashedly, the sound echoing in the old wood of the kitchen.

He’s never seen you laugh that way and for a moment, he forgets why he’s peeved. Shaking his head, he snaps out of it.

“Ma…” he begins, exasperated.

“Ari, what are you so worried about? You think he’s going to defile me? I never told you this, but your father was quite the lover–”

“Ahhh!” He cuts her off, covering his ears like a little boy.

“Sometimes I wonder if he’s in his thirties,” she remarks to you.

“To be fair, if either of my parents started saying something like that, I’d react that way too.” Then, you turn to Ari, “Mr. Wolf will have both our numbers before she goes, they’re just going to a movie and lunch. She’ll be back before dinner and she won’t have to take her medications with her. Plus, ever since we got the dosage changed, she’s been a lot better.”

“It’s barely been over a week.”

“You’re telling me you haven’t seen any improvements?” you challenge, but keep your voice even, giving the cue that you’re not looking for a confrontation, but rather trying to open a discussion.

Thinking it over, Ari realizes you’re right. She’s been better at keeping to her routine, sometimes even proactively initiating the tasks she can do independently. According to you, she’s been good at keeping herself oriented in environments outside of the house.

“I guess a few hours will be okay,” he relents.

“Good lord, you sound like Grandpa Ezekiel,” Marcella rolls her eyes before looking at you. “Except he was actually excited for me to go on a date when Albert first wanted to take me out.”

Ari scoffs.

“Oh, you can’t be so hard on him,” you appeal to her, “He’s just trying to look out for you.”

“Well, he can do that by letting me go out and have some fun!”

“Alright, alright,” he speaks again, exasperated, “go on your date but don’t be late for dinner.”

You giggle at how father-like he sounds.

“Besides,” she begins and a faint thump sounds from underneath the table, “I’m sure you two can figure out something to do while I’m gone.”

- - -

Ari’s mind has been going a million miles a minute ever since the last conversation between himself, you, and his mother.

What was that last comment about? he kept wondering, Why did his mother kick your leg like that? Did you say something to her about him?

Do you like him?

Dear God, I’m a teenager again, he realizes.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look so thoughtful,” Jake’s voice startles Ari, making him jump from his daze.

Looking over at him, he sees Jake giving him a smug, close-lipped smile with his head propped on his fist as he leans against the filing cabinet next to the desk Ari’s working at.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” he pries.

“Just…Valentine’s Day’s coming up.”

“Ooh,” Jake gushes, “You gonna wine and dine your mom’s nurse?”

“Please tell him you are!” Sammy calls from the front of the office. Then, his head peeks through the door, “Maybe you’ll finally stop daydreaming in the middle of the workday.”

Ari’s nose wrinkles; do I really space out that often?

“Well, like…what do I even do?” he asks them, clueless.

Jake repeats himself, supplementing his statement with hand gestures as if he really needs to get his point across, “I just said it: you wine and dine her.”

“Yeah, then you take her to bed,” Sammy finishes.

“Okay yeah, that’s the long plan, but what about the steps to get there?” Ari frets. “Like, the small stuff to get to wining and dining and sleeping with her?”

He looks down bashfully. “I haven’t even told her I like her yet.”

It’s silent for a moment, then Jake snorts a laugh. “What is this, sixth grade?”

He flinches when Sammy flicks him on the ear. “Small stuff,” he advises. “If you’re really worried, just…I don’t know, start with flowers. Women love flowers.”

Ari’s nose wrinkles again. “But flowers die.”

“Yeah, no shit,” Sammy rebuttals.

“Not unless you get her one of those fancy flower boxes,” Jake suggests with a shrug. “Well, they won’t last forever, but like, a year.”

Turning to the computer skeptically, Ari searches up “flowers that last up to a year.” He clicks on the first link he sees and is taken to a store website with whimsical design and curly letters. Jake and Sammy prop themselves on either side of him to look over his shoulder.

Clicking the “shop” button at the top of the screen, Ari sees listings of various boxes of roses, then his stomach drops when he sees the prices.

Sammy whistles and Jake mutters an “ouch.”

“Three hundred and fifty dollars for a dozen?!” Ari asks incredulously.

He exits the website and his friends pat him on the shoulder, wishing him luck.

- - -

Ari’s fingers tap eagerly against his thigh as stands outside the lumber office, waiting for his brother to pick up on the other end. They’ve sent an occasional text to each other, but this is the first phone call they’ll have in a long time.

“Ari?” Andy says on the other line, already sounding worried, “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine with Mama. How are you?”

“Doin’ alright. What’s going on?”

“I, uh…” he trails off, so embarrassed that he’s doing this. “I need some advice.”

“Oh…kay,” Andy drags out the word. “With what?”

Ari cringes as he says it, “Um, a girl.”

“What about a girl?”

“I don’t know what to do and Valentine’s Day is coming up.”

“What is this, the sixth grade?” Andy jokes with a laugh, saying the exact same thing Jake said earlier.

“Andy.”

“Fine, fine, sorry,” he clears his throat. “What’s going on?”

“I wanna do something for her, but I don't know what to do,” Ari explains. “So…what should I do?”

“Depends,” Andy starts. Then Ari can hear the teasing smirk his brother has on his face as he asks, “Which girl is it? The one at the lumber yard?”

“What, Rachel? No, she likes Sammy.”

“Who, then? Tell me about her.”

Ari hesitates. ��Well…it’s uh…”

Andy is quiet for a moment before he grits out, “Ari, don’t you dare fucking say it.”

He tries to change the subject, “Andy, I know you’re doing that eyebrow thing that dad did whenever he was mad about something.”

“Ari,” his brother says sternly, not taking the bait. “Who. is. it.”

“Well, it’s…” he starts again, almost about to admit it but then he pivots slightly out of cowardice and embarrassment. “Look, she’s just been really helpful with Ma, and she’s so smart and patient, and–God, Andy, when I look at her and she smiles, I can’t look away–”

“Shit on a stick, Ari, I swear to God if she files a lawsuit against you, I’m not representing you.”

“I’m in love and all you’re thinking about is a lawsuit?”

“You’re what?!” Andy shouts incredulously. “Ari, it’s barely been a month.”

“Well, when you know, you know!” he argues back weakly.

“Yeah, and I know you’re full of shit!”

Ari sheepishly nudges a rock with the tip of his shoe. “Well, like…ma and dad got married after nine months.”

“Yes, because of extraneous circumstances.”

“I know,” Ari articulates, “It was you.”

“That’s not the point, Ari!” Andy shouts again, then pauses. “Hold on, is she pregnant?!”

“No!”

“Ari, I swear–”

“She’s not pregnant, okay?!”

“Well, thank God for that.”

It’s quiet for a few moments and Ari thinks about his’ brother’s reaction. “So…should I not act on it?”

“Have you done anything before for her to kinda hint that you like her?”

“I built her a bookshelf in her room.”

“And…?”

“She seemed to like it, I don’t know,” Ari shrugs, completely unsure. “What did you do for Laurie when you two first started dating?”

“I, uh…” Andy starts, “I don’t really wanna talk about Laurie.”

“What do you mean?”

The line is quiet for a moment and Ari pulls back his phone to check if he’s still on the call. It’s still going, so he brings it back to his ear and calls his brother’s name.

“I’m still here,” he replies. Then with a sigh, he says, “Laurie and I separated. Been so for a while now.”

Ari’s shocked. “Why didn’t you say anything when you came last month?”

“Didn’t seem like an appropriate time to talk about my problems. Ma was going through a lot meeting a new person–though she took to her quicker than I was expecting, which is nice. And I see you’ve definitely come around–”

“Andy,” Ari whines.

“I’m kidding,” he chuckles. “Anyway, I’m expecting papers from her any day now.”

“...And Jacob?”

“Sometimes I see him on the weekends. He sets those terms, mostly. It’s been hard for him, he’s processing at his own pace.”

Ari’s heart squeezes. He knows how much his brother loves his son. “Well…do you wanna come over for a bit again?”

“Nah, I’m good,” Andy dismisses. “Besides, I wouldn’t wanna interrupt your special little moment.”

“You still haven’t told me what I should do.”

“Have you thought about just getting her flowers? That’s a nice little gesture.”

Ari explains his beef with flowers again.

“You just love to complain, don’t you?” Andy teases. “What about making her something? You know, out of wood.”

“Like what?”

“I dunno, whatever you want to give to her. It’s up to you.” Then he adds, “And if she likes you too, then we gotta talk again because she can’t be our mom’s employed nurse and your girlfriend. It’s a whole bunch of morality and conflict of interest laws.”

Ari’s face flushes, the heat spreading from his cheeks to his ears.

“Ari, did you hear me?”

“Yeah.” He looks down again, kicking the rock he had been playing with out of reach. “Are you okay?”

Andy sighs. “I will be. Maybe I’ll come home once the new cabin’s done? So that I don’t have to sleep on the couch.”

Ari nods even though his brother can’t see him. “Of course. Or even before. I can figure something out.”

“Maybe you and Y/N can share a bed.”

“Dammit, Andy!”

“I’ll talk to you later, kid,” he changes the subject with a laugh. “I have some office hours at the university.”

Ari scowls. “You know I’m two years younger than you, right?” Then, he addresses the second part of what his brother said, “When did you start teaching?”

“Around the time Laurie and I split. And besides, I’ll never stop seeing you as my kid brother.”

They share a laugh and Andy speaks again, “You know I love ya, right?”

“Yeah. And you know I love you.”

“I do. Now get off your ass and go woo her.”

- - - - -

Your heart squeezed as you stood on the porch next to Ari while Mr. Wolf helped Marcella into his car. It was a sweet image and you couldn't be happier for her.

He was dressed smartly and came with a bouquet of fresh flowers, which she had you put into a vase right away. After listing his very clear agenda, he promised she would be home before sundown.

You waved with a laugh as they drove up the driveway and out to the town. Then you sighed, “She’s gonna have such a good time.”

“As long as they don’t have too good a time,” Ari cringes beside you.

“Well, with her out of the way, you can take your bitter self and go lumberjack-off.”

Holding his gaze for a second, you both laugh and you wrinkle your nose.

“That doesn’t work, does it?”

“Not quite, bunny rabbit.”

You tilt your head, “Why do you call me that?”

“‘Cause you wrinkle your nose like one.”

Your nose wrinkles again, then your hand immediately comes up to cover it. “Oh…”

“Not that it’s a bad thing…uh…”

A gust of wind blows, leading Ari to usher you into the house. He starts a fire as you sit on the couch.

“So, what do you wanna do today?”

“Well, since everyone begged for the lumber yard to be closed today, so I can’t ‘lumberjack-off to work,’” he teases.

The air hangs thickly as it dawns on the both of you that you have the whole day and house to yourselves.

You don’t know how he’ll react to your invitation to stay in and watch something with you, possibly the latest documentary on Netflix, so you say nothing while he speaks up.

“I’ll probably do some work on the house,” he points in the direction of where the structure stands. “It’s a pretty decent temperature, I think I should be okay out there…” he trails off and you wonder why it seems like he’s asking for your permission when he’s a grown man.

He continues when you don’t answer, “Uh, right, so I’ll just get dressed and if you need me, then I’ll be over there.”

He disappears into his room, emerging a few minutes later in heavy winter clothing just as you’re queuing up a docuseries. It’s an awkward goodbye as he heads out the door, but the moment it closes behind him, the house is quiet but you have no time for peace with the thoughts that come to the forefront of your mind.

It’s a little silly; you remember being in high school and hoping for grand gestures on Valentine’s Day. Through college, though, it began to lose its significance in the grand scale of things when compared to exams, due dates, and birthdays. You never really looked forward to it, though you did love scoring great deals on large boxes of chocolate on the days after.

All of a sudden, you’re back to where you were in high school. Though this time, you decide not to wait around anymore.

It’s small, but depending on how astute Ari is, it may just get your message across.

The thermos is warm in your hands, the coffee within acting as some comfort against the frigid air as it bites at your skin as you walk to the cabin. You’re curious when you hear a lack of any sort of construction sounds, stepping slowly as you enter so that you don’t disturb or startle Ari.

It feels bigger than the family cabin, all the floors and walls set up with openings for the window panes to be placed later on. There was plenty of space for the cold to still come in, but that didn’t deter you, especially when you found Ari sitting on a stool focusing on something in his hands, a soft scraping sound reaching your ears.

“Hey,” you say softly, apologizing when he jumps.

He stands, large hand concealing what he was working on. “What are you doing here?”

Suddenly you feel out of place. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude–”

“You’re not–”

“I just–”

“I was just–”

The both of you pause, trying to give the other an opportunity to finish their sentence but you just end up looking at each other.

You look down bashfully, “I brought you coffee,” you say, holding up the thermos. “I figured you might have been cold.”

“I’ve only been out here for fifteen minutes.”

You shrug, then change the subject. “What are you working on?”

He looks down, his hand angled so you still can’t see what he’s holding.

“I…I’m not done sanding it, but…”

Holding out his hand, he reveals a small wooden rose blossom just smaller than his palm.

You smile, “It’s beautiful. Is that for Marcella?”

“Uh…no, I reckon she’s gotten enough flowers today,” he says. “It’s…it’s for you.”

Your grip tightens around the mug, blinking at him dumbly before your eyes go back to the carving.

“Me?”

His hand retracts, “Do you not like it?”

“No,” you step closer to him and reach out, cupping your hand underneath his, “It’s sweet.”

You move your hand to touch it and Ari pulls it from your reach. “Don’t,” he worries, “Don’t, I don’t want you to get any splinters.”

You giggle as his cheeks turn red, unsure of what else to say or how to say it.

A gust of wind blows through the window openings and cold stings your nose. You wrinkle it, the sensation unpleasant and strange because you’re not sure what caused it.

Ari brushes his thumb across your nose and you look, your eyes focusing on a little snowflake resting on the ridges of his thumb. Another lands on your cheek and he swipes that one away too.

When your eyes meet his, he speaks, voice gentle, “There. All better, bunny rabbit.”

“Thank you,” you manage to reply, little gasps escaping your mouth but you don’t think it’s from the cold.

“You’re welcome,” he breathes, leaning closer until his lips are on yours, his other arm scooping around your waist.

Stunned, the thermos thuds against the floor and you press your lips harder to his and he holds you as close as your winter clothes can permit. Another dull thud sounds against the floorboards before his other hand comes up to cup your cheek, shielding your skin from the cold that continues to bite at the two of you as more snow falls around you.

You press one hand into his chest and weave the other one into his hair before letting yourself laugh. When he parts from you, you don’t stop.

“What?” he wonders, cheeks turning even rosier. “Why are you laughing?”

“Just…you hated me a month ago,” you giggle.

“I never hated you,” he shakes his head, giving you an Eskimo kiss. “I’m just an arrogant son of a bitch.”

You gasp playfully, “Don’t insult Marcella like that.”

“It’s just a front,” he explains, keeping you close, nudging your cheek with his nose. “I’m protective of Mama and stubborn as hell.”

Running your nails along his scalp, you laugh lightly. “You’re a big softie underneath all of that, aren’t you?”

He nods against you and you laugh again at his bashfulness.

“Come back into the house,” you request, brushing your lips against his forehead. “Stay warm with me.”

- - -

Ari begins to worry as dinner time comes and goes and you manage to distract him for a few minutes at a time, roping him into the docuseries you originally intended to watch earlier.

Now, he sits on the couch with you, attention divided evenly between you and the drama unfolding on the screen as a police investigator offers commentary on how difficult it was to catch the killer.

“Should we tell your mom?” you wonder, playing with his fingers that are settled over your thigh.

“Eventually,” he says. “But maybe not tonight.”

You nod, agreeing, thankful you thought to stash your wooden rose in your room for the time being.

Ari hasn’t voiced it yet, but he’s already planning on carving more roses around different places in the new house. On the banister, the fireplace mantle, cupboards…

Maybe the cupboards would be too much.

Hearing a car pull up in front of the cabin, the two of you jump up, you going to the end of the couch where you normally sit and Ari perching himself in the armchair, both your eyes settling on the TV as if you were entirely engrossed in the events playing out on the screen in front of you.

Mr. Wolf opens the door for Marcella and you smile, greeting her as she comes in. Ari shakes his hand and takes the keys from him before seeing him off as you usher Marcella into the kitchen to drink some water and take her medication.

“So sorry, time just got away from the two of us!” she explains.

“That’s no problem, I’m glad you’re home safe,” you reply, handing her a pill as the door shuts and Ari dusts off the snow from his shoulders and hair.

You look back at him and smile, he smiles too.

“Did you two find something to do while I was gone?” she wonders, making your head turn so quickly in an attempt to not look suspicious.

You’re not sure it works as she gives you an unreadable smile.

“It was a pretty boring day,” you lie with a shrug. “But we managed to get along.”

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#Ari Levinson #Ari Levinson fanfiction #ari levinson x y/n #ari levinson smut #Ari Levinson x reader #ficsofpagesoflauren #Wooden Façade

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soramei · 3 years

Text

From Resentment (hhj)

Pairing: Hyunjin x Reader (she/her)

Summary: After a fated meeting involving a cute and fluffy puppy, you found yourself drawn to Hwang Hyunjin: the school prince. Everybody in high school loved him. It was hard not to. Not only was he rich, smart, and athletic, but he was also incredibly kind-hearted.

However, one day seemingly out of the blue, everything that you thought Hyunjin was came crashing down.

Now a freshman in university, you were excited to live out your dreams. That was, until Hyunjin came hurtling back into your life like an uncontrolled meteor. His presence threw a curveball on all your plans, and would eventually change your perspective on everything that you thought you knew.

Genre: studentl!hyunjin au, angst, enemies to lovers

Warnings: cursing, tw puking

Word Count: 8.8k

Masterlist

A/N: Not an Intentional update but a hyunjin oneshot!! disclaimer: no aspect of hyunjins personality here was drawn from real life — irl hyunjin is a ray of sunshine <3

You looked at your math homework, proud that you got all the answers correct. Since it was a slow afternoon at your job today, you had extra time to focus on your homework. The boss at the convenience store you worked at allowed you to have your homework out, as long as it was hidden behind the cash register.

As you stared at the rest of your homework, you started to feel the weight of tenth grade pile up on you. Because it was your first year of high school, you were still trying to adjust to everything; your grades, your teachers, and all the new students walking around the halls.

You stuffed the rest of your homework in your backpack. It was the end of your shift, and you wanted to go home as soon as possible to start with the rest of your studying. Crap. No matter how hard you tried to zip up your backpack, it wouldn’t close. After trying one more time, the zipper tore from your backpack.

You cursed under your breath. You couldn’t afford to buy a new backpack right now.

You had just been able to afford your new school uniform by taking up extra shifts at the convenience store, and you still needed money for your grandmother’s prescriptions. You sighed, annoyed to have another monetary stressor weighing on your shoulders.

Walking outside with your now torn backpack, your eyes widened at the group of boys in front of you. You immediately recognized them from behind.

The school princes. These three seniors were all known for three things: being extremely smart, handsome, and talented.

On the left was Seungmin, and from what you’ve heard, he was the smart and quiet one. He was always helping the teachers, being the class president and all. Any time a girl or a boy needed academic help, Seungmin was there and happy to assist.

The person on the right was Jisung. With his charming and charismatic personality, he had dated tens upon tens of girls in his grade. Just in the last year. It helped that he was really good looking — and also stinkin’ rich. His father was a notorious restaurateur, and with him being the first son, he was basically given unlimited spending rights.

The only person richer than Jisung was the boy in the center of them both: Hwang Hyunjin. This boy was the school prince. The prince of princes. He somehow managed to participate in music clubs, engage in study groups, and captain the soccer team all the while keeping up excellent grades. Every girl that Jisung had dated was said to have been rejected by Hyunjin first. That was his only flaw: he was notoriously cold to any and all romantic confessions.

You followed behind the three princes, staring at your torn up sneakers. You knew you didn’t exist in their world, but even being near three handsome and rich teenage boys made you nervous.

Suddenly, you heard a whimper coming from behind a bush to the left of you. It sounded like a hurt animal.

Worried and curious, you walked over to the bush to see what it was.

It was a puppy. Small and fluffy, it looked up at you with it’s beady black eyes and cried out. His paw was bleeding.

You panicked. Having never seen a hurt puppy before, you had no idea what to do. You called out for help.

“Help!” you cried, hoping that somebody had heard your call for help. You desperately wanted to help this hurt puppy, but you hesitated to touch it, afraid that you would hurt the animal even more.

The puppy howled in pain, making your panic rise. You were about to call out for help again, when you heard somebody running up behind you.

“What is it?” The voice asked.

“I-I don’t know. I just saw this dog here, and-and his paw is bleeding,” you anxiously stuttered.

“Here, let me take a look.”

You heard the voice behind you, so you shuffled over to make room.

It was Hwang Hyunjin. The person that responded to your cry for help was the most popular and well-liked person in the school. You were shocked, a bit intimidated actually, so you silently moved to the side for him. His black hair shone in the sunlight as he bent down to examine the dog.

“Come here, boy,” he chirped. The puppy listened, and started limping to him. “Something hurt you, didn’t it.”

He stood up, picking the puppy up along with him.

“C’mon,” he gestured with his head, “my vet isn’t too far from here actually. We can make it by walking.”

You silently nodded and followed him.

He was right. The walk to the veterinarian clinic, though very awkward, wasn’t too far. The clinic was empty at this time of day, with the receptionist being the only person in the room.

“Hyunjin! Always a pleasure,” the receptionist beamed. It seemed like Hyunjin’s likeability wasn’t only confined to your school. “My, what do we have here?”

“There’s something wrong with his paw,” Hyunjin tried to show the receptionist where the blood was coming from, “is the doctor free right now?”

“As a matter of fact, he is,” the receptionist said whilst checking the schedule. “I’ll take this little boy to the back where he can get prepped for the veterinarian.”

Hyunjin handed the puppy carefully to the receptionist. The receptionist took out a crate for the dog, put him in, and then disappeared through the back door. The two of you were now left alone in the waiting room.

“Uhm,” you coughed, “thank you. I know you probably want to get back to your friends, so you can leave now.”

“No, I’ll stay,” he looked at you and smiled, “those idiots are just playing LOL at the PC room anyways. Plus, I want to see how this little boy turns out.”

You smiled back at him, nodding your head. A few moments of awkward silence passed.

“I’m Hyunjin by the way,” he said.

“I know. I’m Y/n.”

“You’re in your first year, right?” he said, looking at the colour of your uniform.

“Yeah, it’s so hard to get used to though. I’m trying my best with my homework, but I think this school stuff just doesn’t click with me,” you rambled.

“Oh?”

“I want to go into dance. I’ve never been able to afford professional lessons, but I’ve always wanted to go to university for dance. My grandparents said they would let me if my school grades were high.” You didn’t know why you were giving your life story to Hyunjin. He just had this natural charisma that made you want to spill everything to him. It was the way he looked at you with those cat-like eyes.

“I know what you mean. It took me forever to convince my parents for me to major in dance. I got in by early admittance, but I’m sure they still have their reservations about my major.”

“You’re majoring in dance?” you asked, eyes wide.

He smiled. “I’ve loved dancing ever since I could remember. It’s my passion, and truthfully, the only thing I’ve got going for me.”

You were shocked. At school, Hyunjin was known for so many things other than dancing. Hell, you didn’t even know he enjoyed dancing and you thought you’d heard everything about him already.

The two of you chatted for a while longer before the vet came out with the now happy looking dog.

“It seemed like this little guy got into a fight with something, and he got a pretty large gash on his paw. Luckily, it wasn’t bleeding too much so I just gave him some anaesthetic and stitched it right up.”

You sighed in relief. “Thank god he isn’t too hurt.”

“Yes, it’s good that it wasn’t too bad,” the veterinarian agreed. “I’m assuming this is your dog? As soon as you finish with the bill, I can release this little guy and the both of you are ready to go.”

Oh yeah. The bill.

Although you knew you couldn’t afford to pay the vet bill, you didn’t know where this little dog would go if you couldn’t take him home. You did the mental calculations, and if you worked some extra shifts, you could probably be able to pick up the bill today. Buying a new backpack could be saved for another day.

“Sure, where can I pay?” you asked.

“Just over by the receptionist.” The veterinarian pointed.

You walked over to the receptionist, and she handed the bill over to you.

You almost fainted.

Just the anaesthetic and the stitches alone cost over two hundred dollars. This was extremely over your budget, and probably even more than the amount in your savings. You felt uneasy.

“Uhm, actually, I don’t think I can-”

“Do you take cash?”

Hyunjin had interrupted you, walked up to the receptionist, and pulled out his wallet. He peaked over your shoulder and took out a huge wad of cash to hand to the receptionist.

“Hyunjin, you don’t have to,” you begged. You felt bad that this guy you didn’t even know had just offered to cover you for over two hundred dollars.

“Think of it as a good luck gift from a fellow dancer.” He smiled.

That was when it clicked. You didn’t know what clicked, but it just did. It was his smile. It was the way the corners of his eyes crinkled up and how the corners of his lips pinched at the end. You now understood why all the girls at school were in love with him. He was quite literally perfect.

You thanked him profusely, even after the two of you had left the clinic. With the dog in your hand, you walked side by side with Hyunjin.

“So,” he started, “have you thought of a name for this guy yet?”

Oh yeah — he was your dog now. “Hmm, I don’t know yet.”

“What about Coco?”

“Coco?”

“Yeah, let’s see if he likes it.” Hyunjin leaned in and cooed at the little puppy. “Hi, little Coco!”

The puppy’s eyes lit up, and with his tongue stretched out, he started panting.

“I guess he likes it,” Hyunjin smiled. God, his smile could melt all of Antarctica.

“Coco it is.” You poked at Coco’s nose.

Hyunjin was about to say something back to you when his phone buzzed. He took a peak, rolled his eyes, then smiled. “My friends are god awful at games. I swear, they can’t even win one round without me. You’re okay with going home alone?”

He was going to walk you home? Could he be any more perfect?

You nodded your head. “Thank you, Hyunjin. I’ll pay you back for the bill one day.”

“No need,” he winked. “Like I said, it’s a good luck gift. Oh, and you can ask me if you need help with any school work. Anything to help a fellow dancer.”

He waved goodbye, then went running off in the other direction. You held Coco close to you, heart pounding. Although you didn’t want to be like all the other girls who fell for him, you felt like you were already falling for Hyunjin.

The next day, you had planned to go shopping for dog supplies after school. After a really long and arduous debate with yourself, you decided to sacrifice all of your savings in order to buy everything that Coco needed. You knew Hyunjin owned a dog himself, so throughout the whole day, you worked up the nerve to ask Hyunjin to come with you.

At the end of last period, you gathered all your stuff from your desk and headed to the soccer field where you knew Hyunjin and his friends would be. Whilst you crossed the field, you noticed Jisung staring at you. You found his stare intimidating, but you tried to brush it off. He then whispered something in Hyunjin’s ear.

“Hi, Hyunjin,” you said anxiously, biting your lip. “Umm, do you want to come with me to shop for Coco?”

He stared at you for a couple seconds, then, a look of disgust appeared on his face. “Why? So you can use my wallet again?”

You stared back at him, wide eyed. Who was this person? It wasn’t the Hyunjin that so graciously helped you out yesterday.

“W-what? No!” you exclaimed. “I-I just wanted your opinion…”

“Sure,” Hyunjin smirked coldly, “opinion my ass.”

“Hyunjin,” tears were pooling in your eyes, “I don’t understand.”

“If you need money so much, here.” He reached in his pocket and turned up a wad of cash, throwing it at your feet. “Just don’t come to me next time. And buy yourself a new pair of shoes while you’re at it.”

You looked down at the money, trying to hold back your tears. Why was Hyunjin being like this? You didn’t understand. His two jockeys beside him didn’t even bother to stop him. As you tried to stop yourself from crying, you felt your sadness turn into rage.

“I don’t need your stupid money,” you said, kicking the cash back to him. “Maybe you can use your daddy’s money to buy yourself a new personality.”

Hyunjin’s two friends tried to hold back their snickers at your words. Hyunjin heard, turned around, and gave them both death stares.

You didn’t bother to listen to whatever he was going to say next and simply stomped away, rage burning inside you. Everything about him was a lie. His charming and charismatic personality, his generosity, his kindness. They were all lies. He really was nothing but a rich, spoiled boy living with his father’s money.

There was rage behind every step you took. Wiping away your tears, you headed to your locker. You didn’t need him anyways; it was better to realize his true personality earlier rather than later. Hands shaking from anger, you dialed the combination to your locker.

“Hey, sorry about what happened earlier.” A voice came from behind you. “He can be a real jerk sometimes.”

It was Jisung. You rolled your eyes. You didn’t want to see him either.

“Why didn’t you do anything about it then?” Your voice came out shaky. It was obvious that you had cried.

“Once he starts, there’s no stopping him. It’s usually better to let him finish uninterrupted, or else he will get more mad.”

“Oh,” you said. Your hatred for Hyunjin grew even more.

“I could come with you, though. I don’t know much about dogs, but I can help you carry your bags.”

“I don’t know…”

“C’mon, no way you can carry everything by yourself.”

You hesitated. “Okay, I guess.”

And so, you left for the pet store with Jisung, still confused about everything that had happened. It was strange with him. He was nice and cracked a joke every now and then, but it was just different from being with Hyunjin. At least he was nice, you thought.

Your trip went well. You managed to buy everything you needed for Coco. In a turn of events, Jisung had actually come in handy as he offered to carry the huge bag of dog food you bought. He even offered to buy you a coffee.

“Thanks for all your help, Jisung.” You stood outside the door of your apartment, smiling at him.

“No problem, gives me an excuse to work out my guns.” He pretended to flex his arms.

You choked back a laugh.

“You should get going now. It’s late,” you said.

“Alright,” he started to leave. “Hey, if you see me in the halls, feel free to say hi.”

You nodded and waved to him as he turned and walked away, remembering his words. Every time you saw Jisung in the school hallways, you gave him a small wave in which he happily returned. However, whenever you saw him walking with Hyunjin, you made sure to purposely avoid them. You didn’t want any negativity in your life.

You kept up the waves, and soon, waves turned to small conversations which soon turned to flirting. By the end of the semester, you and Jisung somehow ended up as a couple. Jisung was polite and sweet, unlike a certain person. With every free moment you had, you hung out with Jisung — all the while avoiding Hyunjin.

The two of you stayed a couple for the rest of Jisung’s senior year. Somehow, the two of you had even kept up your relationship throughout your whole high school experience. It was hard at times as he went to university, but with a lot of effort, you had made your relationship work out. You barely had time to talk with him, but you enjoyed the little time that you did have. Jisung had never even once mentioned Hyunjin when you were together, and with time, you had totally forgotten about that jerk. You weren’t even sure if they were still friends.

You worked hard in school and reaped all the benefits. Your rank had consistently been in the top twenties amongst all the other students, and you even had time to practice your dancing. You remembered the day that you received your acceptance letter from university. Hands shaking, you had barely managed to open the letter all the way before you screamed. You had gotten into university with your dream major: dance.

Because of your excellent grades, you were able to pay a lot of your tuition with scholarship money alone. You hesitantly decided to quit your job at the convenience store to focus on university. Although quitting meant that your bank account would take a big hit, you decided that it would be best in the long run. There was a lot in your savings, and you even had a little extra to buy a new outfit for your first day of school.

Jisung had been busy on the first day of university. He had previously promised to show you around campus, but with him being a no-show, you wandered around by yourself to try to find your classes. You had trouble with the campus map at first, but after walking around for a bit, you were able to find all your classes with ease.

Your first few classes were a snore. Because they were all theory, you had to down two cups of coffee in order to stay awake. Somehow, you managed to take coherent notes despite being bored out of your mind. You just wanted to dance.

The good thing was, after sitting through many classes, your time to dance finally came. Your last class of the day was an introduction to dance course, and you couldn’t wait to go. You wanted to know your teacher, your peers, and most importantly, express yourself.

The dance class was in a studio in the university’s fitness center. It was huge, way bigger than the tiny gym in your high school. Upon entering the studio, you were immediately met with the sight of students, exactly like you, already stretching. You chose a spot in the room and started stretching as well, making good use of your time before the instructor comes in.

After some time, most of the students — including you — had finished stretching and were sitting in silence waiting for the instructor. The door swung open, breaking the silence. The instructor had come in.

“Hello new students,” he said, “welcome to Dance 100. Today, I will go through the curriculum with you as well as introduce your final project.”

The instructor whipped out a projection of the curriculum and started explaining the purpose of the course, what you would be graded on, and how you would be graded. He then read through his class expectations before moving to your final project.

“This final project will act in place of a final exam,” he explained. “You will be required to create a dance that includes everything we’ve learned in class and write an essay explaining all the elements in your dance. It will be worth half your grade.”

The class gasped in surprise. Not only did this project sound extremely difficult for a first year course, but the fact that it was worth half your grade made it borderline unfair.

“I know it might seem difficult, but worry not, you won’t be doing this alone. Every year, the first year dance students get mentored by the third year dance students for the final project. Each student has already been assigned a random mentor which will be introduced this class.”

The whole class murmured, talking amongst themselves and expressing their opinions on this project. It was definitely an interesting project. You hoped that you would be paired with a good mentor that would actually care about how well you did.

There was a knock on the door.

“Ah, this must be them.” Your instructor opened the door and a wave of third years came flooding in. Each one of them had a name tag pinned on their shirts. “Class, these are the third year students.”

You all politely greeted them.

“Now,” the instructor continued, “I will put the class list on the projector, and each of your names will correspond to a third year mentor.”

The instructor put out the list for display. You scanned down the list of names, eventually finding yours. Following the dots to your corresponding mentor, you almost choked on air when you saw yours.

It was Hwang Hyunjin.

You were at a loss for words. Just when you thought he was out of your life forever, the man that was so incredibly mean to you — the man you hated with your whole soul — was now your mentor. Just the thought of being in the same room as him filled you with disgust.

You scanned the sea of third year students, and your eyes immediately found him. He was staring back at you with the same shocked expression that you had on.

He looked different. Not only had he grown taller, but he had lost all his baby fat as well. His hair was different too. It was bleached blond and it almost hit his shoulders. What was the same, however, was his intense stare and his plump lips.

You walked over to him.

“You look different.” His eyes scanned up and down.

“So do you.” You clenched your jaw and sighed. “I guess we have to work together.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” he said flatly.

“Listen,” you copied his tone, “I’m not excited about this either, but I want to get a good grade for this class. If you don’t wanna help me, just say so and I’ll just work alone on this.”

“Don’t be stupid,” he rolled his eyes, “this is part of my grade too. I can’t let you fuck this up for the both of us.”

You rolled your eyes back at him and pressed your lips in a thin line. Ignoring what he said, you asked, “where do we start?”

“Let’s find a time to meet every week.” He pulled out the newest iPad model from his bag. Of course he would have the newest iPad. “I’m busy every day except Saturday, so let’s meet then.”

Way to consider your opinion. He was lucky that you weren’t busy on the weekends.

As Hyunjin worked on sorting his schedule, you took your time to look at how he had changed. With his hair blonde, he looked like a completely different person. You didn’t understand why he kept his hair long though. It kept falling in his eyes.

“Stop staring at me. It’s freaking me out.” He narrowed his eyes at you.

“I wasn’t.” You crossed your arms, defending yourself.

“Whatever.” He tucked his hair behind his ear and put his iPad back in his bag. “Don’t be late on Saturday.”

And with that, he left. You looked around the class. Most of the other students were still with their mentors, presumably getting to know each other and discussing the project. You almost wanted to ask your instructor to switch with somebody else, but that would mean passing on the nightmare known as Hwang Hyunjin onto a perfectly innocent person. You had your moments, but you weren’t evil.

The interaction with Hyunjin had left you in a sour mood for the rest of the day. You tried to study, but you were too distracted by the thought of having to work with that monstrosity for a whole semester. It was worth so much of your grade, too. You had just hoped that Hyunjin was as good at dance as he previously told you. You remembered him saying how dance was his passion in life. That was when you still liked him. Who knows, maybe he only said that so he could play you like every other girl he played with.

For the rest of the week, whenever you thought of the dance project, you were filled with dread. You tried to ignore it, and sometimes it worked, but most of the time it kept reappearing in your mind like a virus. The way Hyunjin had infected your mind bothered you to no end.

Time passed fast though, and before you knew it, Saturday had already come. Searching through your closet, you picked out a simple outfit for practice today. You slid on your tattered old sneakers and headed off to the studio that Hyunjin had told you to go to.

Entering the dance studio, you noticed that you were right on time. However, Hyunjin was not. Great… He made such a big deal over you being on time that he himself forgot to be punctual. You sat on the wood floors and started to do some stretches to warm up.

Eventually, after you finished your stretching, he entered the studio. With a girl. Holding a textbook, Hyunjin handed it to the girl and put on his signature deceitful smile. His ugly, perfect smile. The girl batted her eyes and waved her fingers goodbye before strolling out the door. You rolled your eyes at this, feeling bad for the girl. Hyunjin was playing her right in front of her own eyes and she didn’t even realize it.

“Were you really late because of a girl?” you sneered.

“Why do you care?” he retorted, flinging his bag to the corner of the room.

“I don’t.”

“Sure you don’t.”

Not wanting to waste time with that childish banter, you decided to end the conversation then and there. “Okay, well anyways, I’ll show you what I learned in class this week.”

Hooking up your phone to the speaker, you chose the song that you’ve been practicing with for the whole week. As the song progressed, you found it hard to not get lost in the music. Just dancing was the easy part; incorporating everything learned in class was another story. Although it was fairly difficult, you thought you executed everything very well as the song came to an end. Finishing up, you panted from exhaustion and looked at Hyunjin for his comments.

He stood, with his arms crossed across his torso, leaning against the speaker. There was a blank expression on his face.

“Not bad.” He started to walk up to you.

“But?”

“But you’re too stiff. You’re too focused on perfectly executing the technical moves that you forget to just move your body. Do what you did half-way through the song again.”

You turned the music on, trying to do the dance with Hyunjin’s criticisms in mind. Looking in the mirror, you did your best to show as much emotion as possible, all the while moving more fluidly. The room was filled with heavy bass and the squeaks from your sneakers.

Suddenly, the music was abruptly cut off.

Hyunjin had stopped the music and was making his way over, face still unreadable.

“You’re still trying too hard and it shows.” Hyunjin shook his head.

Clenching your jaw, you did your best to hold back your anger. Were you just not supposed to try? This annoyed you. Just because he didn’t need to try to be good at anything didn’t mean you couldn’t.

“Well,” you tried to say calmly, “how can I do this then?”

“You have to relax.” He put one hand on your hip and started to guide you. “Don’t focus on each individual aspect, but try to imagine everything as a whole. Then, things will come naturally.”

You followed his hand, allowing Hyunjin to guide you to his own rhythm. After a while, every movement felt so fluid and you didn’t even notice that your face started to match your movements. Glancing at your reflection, you gasped, noticing how different your dancing looked. You whipped your head to face Hyunjin, the two of your inches apart and breathing heavily.

“See,” he mumbled, looking down at you. “Once you stop thinking, everything just comes naturally.”

You looked back at the person inches away from you. It almost felt as if he was being kind. But you knew the type of person he was. You weren’t going to let this happen again. Snapping out of what weird trance you were in, you pushed him away in an act of self perseverance.

He didn’t say anything.

“I’ll try again,” you said.

Hyunjin strolled over to the speaker and turned on the music. This time, you didn’t think about anything you learned in class or Hyunjin’s criticisms. You just trusted in your body. Everything else was blank.

Taking a step forward while still in your trance, your shoe lost its grip on the floor, causing you to fall right on your knee. You cried in pain, holding on to your knee.

“Fuck,” Hyunjin hissed. He ran over and bent down to your level. “Can you move it?”

“I think so.” You tried to straighten your knee. It hurt, but you were still able to do it. There would most likely be a nasty bruise there the next morning.

“You’re still wearing those scraps that you call shoes? They’re literally coming apart at the seams. This is going to happen again if you don’t get new ones.”

You blushed in embarrassment from his remarks. “I’m not going to spend money on things that I don’t need.”

“Well, you need shoes. Just go buy a new pair later.”

Was he being serious? Or was he just spoiled?

“Hyunjin, not everybody can just go spend money whenever they want,” you loudly sighed. “Unlike you, I need to consider my budget for most things.”

“Well, why can’t you ask your boyfriend to buy it?” he sneered. “Seems like you’re good at doing that.”

How did he know you were still dating Jisung? What did he mean by ‘good at doing that’?

“What?” You crossed your eyebrows. “Do you think I’m with him just for his money? Do I really look like that kind of person to you?”

“You used me for my money,” he mumbled under his breath.

“What?” You couldn’t hear him right.

“Nevermind, rehearsal's over.” He stomped off, leaving you alone in the practice room holding on to your injured knee.

You busied yourself with everything and anything you could do over the weekend in order to forget what happened during rehearsal. However, no matter how hard you tried to forget, Hyunjin’s comments on your shoes stuck in your mind like glue.

During your shift at your job, you couldn’t help but keep staring at your worn sneakers. You never paid attention to your shoes before until now. They did the job, so why would you need to buy a new pair? Still, you unconsciously paid attention to every step you took.

On Monday’s dance class, you decided to go early. It was always nice to warm up in a room with other try-hards. They felt less judgemental than the others.

The studio barely had anybody in it this early before class. Everybody was either stretching or had already started going over what was taught last week. Shuffling your way over to your locker, you couldn’t help but compare everybody else’s shoes to your own. You’ve never cared about trivial matters such as shoes, but you couldn’t help but feel a little self conscious as your worn-in sneakers squeaked its way over to the lockers.

Opening your locker, your eyes widened, shocked at what you saw. Inside was a box containing a brand new pair of sneakers. It was an expensive brand as well, a brand that you never thought you would be touching in your life. You turned your head around, scanning the room. Everybody seemed to have been busy with their own thing.

Did somebody put these in your locker by mistake?

Taking the shoes out, you noticed a small slip of paper fly out. You picked up the note.

Keep these. I was a jerk.

You knew who had sent this. It was Hyunjin. You didn’t know what game he was trying to play at, but you weren’t going to fall for it like you did that day in high school. Gingerly putting the shoes back in your locker, you decided to return these back to Hyunjin at your next practice.

“No, I gave them to you as a gift.” Hyunjin turned his nose up at you, refusing to take back the shoes.

“Why would you give these to me if you think that I only use people for their money?”

“Because,” he rolled his eyes, “if you’re unable to dance then my grade is screwed as well.”

He made a good point, but you were stubborn. “Still…”

“You know what? Keep it, give it away, sell it, I don’t care. Let’s just start practice.”

After that dance practice, you threw your old shoes in the trash.

It was midterm season a month into school. You thought you had gone to hell and back with high school, but this was even worse. Each day consisted of waking up, studying, and going back to sleep. You lived on coffee and toast. It wasn’t much, but it gave you the energy to sit at the library for hours to study.

You didn’t see anybody during the midterm season, Instead, you chose to hermit yourself up at the library for days on end. This meant that, at least for a couple of weeks, your dance practice with Hyunjin was put on hiatus. Not that he minded, of course. He happily deleted the practices from his schedule.

You also didn’t see much of your boyfriend, Jisung. Ever since school started, he seemed to always be missing in action. He would almost never have time to be with you, and with the few moments that he was, it seemed like he was always so apathetic towards you. You brushed this off as stress though, as you finally knew what it was like to experience university exams.

It was a clear and sunny day on the morning you finished your last midterm. Leaving the exam room, you looked up to the sky, basking in the sun. Today was going to be a good day. Not only were you now stress free, but you were also invited to an end-of-midterm party for your dance class tonight. You had never gone to a university party before, so when a classmate asked if you wanted to go, you eagerly accepted.

Wrapping up your dance class, you stood at your locker, gathering the rest of your stuff.

“Hey.” An arm wrapped around you.

“Hey, Jisung.” You smiled, turning around to face him.

“You��re done all your midterms?”

“Yup.” You nodded happily.

He took a look at your shoes.

“New shoes?”

You hesitated in answering his question, not knowing where Jisung was with Hyunjin in terms of friendship. It was better to be truthful now rather than apologizing later.

“Hyunjin gave it to me.” You looked down, fiddling with your fingers. Why were you afraid of Jisung’s response?

“Wait, what? Hwang Hyunjin? Like from high school? Y/n, I thought you hated him.”

“I did! And I do,” you tried to explain, “but he had a reason to give me this.”

“Bullshit, Y/n. You’re really gonna believe any reason he pulls out of his ass? I thought you actually matured from high school.”

“Well, you would understand if you were around more often!” you yelled. You knew it was wrong to address other problems and blow this out of proportion, but you couldn’t think straight. Your mind was clouded with anger.

“What does this have to do with anything?” Jisung barked back. “What we’re talking about is how you, no matter how shitty of a person Hyunjin is, keep going back to him! Y/n, all that man does is take. He takes from you and he sure as hell takes everything from me. I won’t let that happen this time.”

When had he taken anything from you? All he had done was give.

“Jisung, let’s end this.”

“You’re right. Let’s cool down and talk later tonight.”

“No,” you shook your head, “I mean, let's end us.”

Jisung looked at you in disgust. “It’s Hyunjin, isn’t it?”

“No,” you vehemently denied, “Jisung, you never have time for me, and the little time we do have together you act like a different person. And now you’re being all possessive just because Hyunjin gave me a gift? I’m sorry, I just don’t see us recovering from this.”

“Fine, whatever.” Jisung turned around. “We’re done. But Y/n, don’t come running back to me when Hyunjin screws you over like he does with everybody.”

After Jisung left, you stomped your foot on the ground, tears pooling in your eyes. It was for the best — breaking up with him. For the past month, you hadn’t been happy with where your relationship was going, but this wasn’t the way you wanted to end an almost three year relationship.

Wiping away your tears, you tried to compose yourself before heading over to the pub. Jisung wasn’t worth the tears.

The walk to the pub wasn’t far as every establishment catered to students was a short walking distance from campus. For your entire walk over, you kept your head down so as to not receive looks from others. The headache from your cries and a blush of anger still lingered with you. Hopefully you’ll look somewhat normal by the time you reach the bar.

Checking your reflection once more in your phone camera, you fixed your hair a bit before going inside.

The bar was filled.

With students from both your dance class and the third year class, there was not an empty corner in sight. The music was loud, but the sounds of chatter coming from the students were louder. The place was dark, with the only source of light coming from very dim, bright blue LEDs.

It was surprising to see everybody in a different setting. You were used to the sight of your classmates being only in sweats and workout clothes, but now that they actually had time to get ready, everybody seemed like a completely different person.

You saw a few of your classmates wave at you, beckoning you over to where they were sitting. As soon as your butt landed on the chair, they spared no time to push a shot glass filled with clear liquor in front of you. You gladly took the drink, wanting to just let go and forget about everything that happened today. Holding back a cough, you scrunched your face as you felt the alcohol burn in your throat. It had been so long since the last time you drank.

After five you stopped counting. Partly because you knew you were going to drink more, but mostly because your head couldn’t even count to five anymore. Scrunching your eyes, you tried to focus on the blurry figure of your classmate complaining about her professor. Bored out of your mind as her mindless babble went on forever, your eyes started roaming around the bar. As your eyes wandered, you noticed somebody behind your classmate staring at you.

Hwang Hyunjin.

Even in your inebriated state of mind, you knew that it was Hyunjin. What other university student had the balls to bleach their whole head blonde? Your eyes met, and he ran a hand through his golden locks. Why do the most beautiful people harbour the most wretched personalities?

You tried to ignore his staring by focusing your attention back on your classmate, but eventually, you couldn’t help but glance back at him. He was still looking at you.

You saw a girl come up to him. She was the same girl that showed up with him on your first ever practice session. Because of the dimly lit bar and your drunken vision impairment, you had to really squint to make out what was going on. The girl, all smiley and giggly, put her hand on his shoulder, making Hyunjin break his eye contact with you. He smiled at the girl, mouthing words that were drowned out by the music. For some reason, this made you furious. Why was he so nice to everybody else but you? What had you ever done to him to make him hate you so much?

You kept your eyes on the girl, knowing full well that you shouldn’t have. You hated that — even on your night off, even when you had just broken up with your boyfriend — Hyunjin was still in your mind like an unkillable parasite. You hated the way he tucked his hair behind his ears. You hated how the corners of his eyes crinkled up when he smiled at her. You hated him.

You watched as she leaned in and whispered something in his ear, causing him to laugh. That was the last straw. In a drunken haze, you took your phone and bolted out the door, ignoring the concerns of all your classmates. Maybe it had been a mistake breaking up with Jisung. Maybe he really did know what was best for you.

Stumbling out onto the street, you tried to dial Jisung’s phone number. It proved to be too difficult of a task, however, as your drunken fingers could only tap on random numbers on the screen. You cried out of frustration.

“Y/n.”

The voice coming from behind you startled you, causing you to lose your grip on the phone. It dropped on the cement with a loud crack. Tears welled up in your eyes as you bent down to pick up your phone. There was a huge crack right down the middle of the screen.

“You cracked my phone,” you said, trying to keep your composure.

“So? It’s not like it’s worth much anyways. Just ask your boyfriend to buy you one.” Hyunjin’s evil eyes squinted down at you.

“Why are you still on about this? Hyunjin, I’ve never used anybody for money and I never will!” You couldn’t control the tears flowing down your face. “Plus, I couldn’t even if I wanted to. I broke up with Jisung today.”

You didn’t know why you were spilling your guts to the last man in the world you would trust. Surely, it was the alcohol.

“Y/n.” His tone had completely changed. He almost looked — concerned?

“Whatever, Hyunjin,” you slurred. “Just leave me alone. You can go back to that girl and have your fun with her.”

“Why do you care?”

“I don’t care.”

“Y/n, why do you care?” His tone got louder.

“I don’t!” you yelled at him. Your tears made everything even more blurry.

“Y/n! Tell me, why do you care?!” He spat back at you with just as much fury.

“Fuck you, Hyunjin. News flash, not everything in the world revolves around you and your rich and prestigious life. Maybe you wouldn’t be so toxic if you would just understand that.” You screamed at him through your sobs. “Also, I don’t know where you got this stupid story of my being a cash whore from, but I will say this one last time: I have worked for everything in my life and I have never and will never use anybody for their money.”

Hyunjin looked back at you, shocked. You stared back at him in disgust. Not wanting to waste anymore time on him, you stumbled down the street to look for a taxi. However, as you wobbled down the pavement, everything became even blurrier than before. You felt nauseous. You couldn’t control it anymore.

You threw up. All over the sidewalk. You couldn’t stop. Every time you thought that it was over, more and more came out. Your throat burned, and it wasn’t just the alcohol.

As you hurled out all the remains of today’s lunch, your hair was held back.

“Get away from me, Hyunjin,” you groaned. You didn’t want him to see you this weak.

“Who else is gonna take care of your drunk ass, idiot,” he mumbled.

That was the last thing you heard before everything went black.

It was a blinding white light that woke you up. You groaned, trying to block the light with your forearm. Cracking your neck, you tried to holster yourself up.

You were on a leather couch. Squinting, you surveyed the room you were in. It was clean, spacious. The floor was a white marble — there wasn’t a single speck of dust to be seen. Across from you was an incredibly wide TV with many game consoles scattered around it. You looked behind you. There was a large kitchen island illuminated by warm pendant lights. Sitting at the island, on his laptop, was Hyunjin.

“Wh-what happened to me?”

“You’re the worst fucking drinker I’ve ever seen, that’s what happened.”

You rolled your eyes.

Hyunjin ignored you, standing up and leaving for another room. Less than a minute later, he reappeared with a toothbrush and a roll of toothpaste.

“Go clean up. You look disgusting.”

You snatched the toothbrush from his hands. He pointed over to the bathroom and you trudged your way over. His bathroom was huge, almost bigger than your bedroom at home. You felt as if you were in a hotel.

“Your bathroom is huge.” After washing up, you felt not only cleaner, but more awake. “You’re really living the life with your family’s money, huh.”

Hyunjin sighed, slamming his laptop shut causing you to flinch. “Why, after everything, do you think I’m this rich, pretentious fuck?”

You rolled your eyes. Not this again. “Well, why do you still think I’m this money hungry monster?”

“You really wanna know why, Y/n? It’s because Jisung told me so. He was the one who told me that all those years ago.”

You were shocked. Jisung was the one who told him that? Your ex-boyfriend that you had loved and dated for almost three years? You didn’t want to believe it, you really didn’t, but there was this tiny whisper in the back of your mind telling you that it was true. He had a reason to — Jisung was always going on about how Hyunjin always took from him.

“But Y/n, I-” He stopped mid-sentence.

“You what, Hyunjin?”

He pressed his lips to yours, caressing the back of your head. You were shocked, but almost autonomously, your lips parted feeling the heat of his breath against yours. He pressed his body to yours, running his hand down your waist. His lips, the same lips responsible for his perfect smile, felt so soft against your own. You heard the thuds of his heartbeat as he held you closer.

You broke apart, gasping for breath. The realization of what you had done just hit you.

In a panic, you used your whole strength to push his body away from you. “I-I have to go.”

“Y/n, wait!” Hyunjin called.

You paid him no attention. Instead, you ran across the marble floors, hoisted the front door open, and sprinted out. Hoping that Hyunjin wasn’t following you, found your way outside and took a taxi home.

You sat in silence, trying to process what had just happened. You had just kissed Hyunjin. You had just kissed Hyunjin. Hands shaking, you grasped at the ends of your hair, trying to calm yourself down. Did that just happen?

You were more mad at yourself than at him. How could you have just kissed Hyunjin? You hated him. He was nothing but rude to you, never smiling and always accusing you of things that were clearly lies. He made you feel self conscious, nervous, and everything in between. You hated him.

But he was so sweet on that fateful day in high school. He gave you a new pair of shoes when you had slipped during practice, and he held your hair for you when you were drunk. His hair glistened in the sunlight, his smile made your heart race, and his lips ignited sparks of every colour in the rainbow in your chest.

You hated Hwang Hyunjin. You hated how fast you became infatuated with him on that day in high school, and no matter how much you tried to deny it, you hated that your feelings haven’t changed ever since. You hated Hwang Hyunjin. You hated that you loved him.

Curling up in your bed, there was no stopping the tears flowing down your face. You cried and cried upon this realization, and you remained this way for the rest of the day. The effect Hyunjin had on you was bigger than you ever expected, and you hated it.

At school, you tried to avoid as many people as possible. The kiss you had shared with Hyunjin was plaguing your mind, distracting you and igniting the fire that was your inner turmoil. Even the thought of Hyunjin put a strain in your heart. It was the way his breath fanned over your nose, gently tickling it like a bird’s feather and the soft silk of his blonde locks brushing up against your cheeks.

You shook your head, trying to erase any and every thought of that man. Walking to your locker, you were stopped in your tracks, the dam in your eyes starting to crack. You couldn’t do this today. You turned around to go somewhere else — anywhere else.

“Y/n, wait.”

You sniffed, wiped stray tears from your eyes, and picked up your pace.

“Y/n.” He grabbed your shoulder, turning you around to face him.

“Hyunjin, please, I can’t do this today.”

“Are you… Are you crying?” He touched your face, wiping your tears with his thumb. “Y/n, why are you crying?”

You shook your head. You were scared of what would happen if you opened your stupid mouth.

“Y/n, please.” Hyunjin begged. His voice was shaking. “Tell me why.”

You shook your head again.

“Y/n, please.” His voice cracked.

“Hyunjin,” you paused, taking a shaky breath, “it’s because I love you. I’ve loved you ever since the first moment you smiled at my pathetic ass. Even when you hurt me more than anyone has hurt me before… I never had a choice, Hyunjin. It’s always been you.”

You tore yourself away from Hyunjin, embarrassed to your core. That was the most humiliating thing you’ve ever done, but at least you had closure now.

“Y/n…”

“No, Hyunjin. You’ve torn me down and humiliated me enough already. What more could you possibly want?” You demanded, aware that everybody around you was staring.

“Y/n,” Hyunjin rasped, “It’s only ever been you. I’ve spent the last three years miserable knowing that you were with someone else. I’ve-I’ve never even been with another girl in the past three years. I know you have no reason to believe me because I was such an ass. I am such an ass. Y/n, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for projecting my insecurities on you, I’m sorry for accusing you of things I know you’ve never done, and I’m sorry for anything else I might have fucking done. Y/n, I love you. Please, I don’t fucking deserve it, but is there any way you could forgive me?”

You stared at Hyunjin’s bloodshot eyes, tears freely flowing down your cheeks, and before you could even think, you found yourself pressed against his lips. Your eyes closed, savouring the feeling of his soft lips touching your own. His wet cheek pressed against your own, and with a nudge of the nose, Hyunjin deepend the kiss with a raw passion in which you’ve never felt before.

You cradled his head, relishing in his silken blonde hair as you brushed your fingers through his locks. He sighed in response, his breath tickling against your cheek. You were fully aware that everyone on campus had seen both your messy confessions of love, but you didn’t care. All you could do was replay the moment that Hyunjin had said those words — those three tiny words — over and over in your head as you ran your fingers through his hair and kissed his soft, honey lips.

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cyborg-franky · 2 years

Note

Hi fren,

I hope you had a good day/night or something happy happened.

You can just ignore this if you're busy or not in the right mental state for writing. Seriously, don't feel like you have to.

I had a really bad and scary interview that shook me up.

It was in a small office room (no windows & door closed), with two men and one is really stern and intimidating. He scolded me for having prescription sunglasses :'<

Enby or not, I'm a small fragile feminine person so I felt extremely unsafe.

I hate thinking about how helpless I would've been if one of them had blocked the door.

I'm hope that wasn't too much, I tried to keep out any details that might be too triggering. Don't wanna upset anyone.

I'd really like any comfort or fluff writing with Sanji and/or Bartolomeo. (Their my fav characters)

Any format or length is fine.

I promise I'll draw something for you in return. Anything you want!

Best of wishes 💜

-Zell

That is awful and I know what thats like, someone might not have an intention to hurt you but the -fear- from past trauma always creeps up. I hope you are feeling better now though bean.

- You were in a state, you’d spent the last few hours trying to calm yourself and it wasn’t working.

- Your face was red and puffy from the tears, your stomach had only just stopped doing flips.

- Gripping your pillow tightly to your chest and trying to calm your breathing as soon as you felt you would be okay you couldn’t contain it and those feelings would come rushing back.

- You kept playing over those moments in your mind.

- How you’d felt so trapped and panicked.

- You told yourself off for how ‘silly’ you were being, how nothing had happened but the trauma that laid away in your mind had been the reason everything had crept up and hit you full force.

- You heard the door open, fear prickled along your spine until you saw the brightly dressed man with the even brighter hair.

- “Oi, oi why the tears?” He asked when you were a second too late to bury your face to hideaway.

- “Nothing.” You peeped and shook your head not wanting to have your boyfriend worry about you.

- “That’s bullshit.” Barto said simply before he sat down next to you, he managed to wrestle the pillow away from you, tossing it aside so he could pull you close.

- He looked at your sore and tired eyes as he ‘tsked’ and brushed some tears away gently, careful as he could.

- Many people didn’t think Barto was capable of such delicate actions, you knew though, he treated you with a kindness others would never have expected.

- “Alright, who do I have to kick the shit out of?” He hissed and pulled you closer.

- “I’ll eat them alive I fuckin’ swear.” He was getting huffy just thinking about it as he gripped you, rocking you back and forth a little.

- “No one hurts my partner, no one.” He sneered thinking about the person who’d dared to make you cry.

- “It’s fine, I’m fine, you here with me now and I feel safe.” You smiled, the way he was getting so heated and wanting to jump to your defence was helping relieve the stress.

- “I….y-y-yeah?” his voice came out a little squeak as you said those words, you could see the blush that spread across his cheeks.

- You nodded and kissed his chin, seeing him go a brighter red and laughing when he let out a squawk.

#bartolomeo the cannibal #barto x reader #barto x you #barto x yn #barto x y/n #one piece x reader #one piece reader insert #one piece x you #sfw #gender neutral reader

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neonacity · 3 years

Text

LUCID | NCT DREAM ‘00 LINE X READER | CH.4

LUCID DREAMS - A TYPE OF DREAM WHEREIN THE PERSON IS AWARE THAT THEY ARE CAUGHT IN A DREAM WORLD.

Summary: It was supposed to be a harmless, professional transaction. You were to tutor a group of boys, get your pay at the end of the day, and go home to your loving fiance. Kids aren’t supposed to be dangerous, right? So why, then, are you caught up in a web of madness that slowly makes you feel like you’re in a living nightmare?

NOTE:This is a yandere plot featuring NCT Dream ‘00 line which means there will be mature themes in the story as well as obsessive, toxic behavior. If you’re a minor, please refrain from interacting. If this isn’t your thing, then just scroll and skip. In no way am I condoning anything written here— this is not love, this is obsession—nor do I think that any of the people mentioned here will act any way like in this story. This is purely a work of fiction.

Genre: yandere, horror, suspense

TW: abuse, obsessive behavior, toxic relationships, suggestive scenes, stalking, possible kidnapping, mental health. Age gap–though nothing dramatic. Everyone is of legal age. Creepy, creepy, creepy! This will be updated as the story goes along.

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

“Deep into that darkness, peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared dream before”

— Edgar Allan Poe

"Is she going to be okay?"

"Yes. I checked the results of her scans and there seems to be no broken bones. But she did hit her head hard so I would suggest she take a rest for a couple of days."

The voices dipped in and out of your swimming consciousness like broken records. There were words that you caught and tried to grasp, but you couldn't quite make out what they mean while you struggled to emerge from your half asleep state. A searing pain ran down the left side of your head and you winced, before a particularly harsh throbbing there finally sent your eyes flying open.

The first thing you saw were the red velvet drapes hanging from the middle of what looked like the ceiling of a four poster. You frowned at it, not quite understanding what exactly it is you were looking at, when another painful throb on your temple had your hand flying towards it.

You were too focused on trying to grit back the pain that you missed the hurried rustling from beside your bed. When your vision finally focused again, you saw five heads peer at you wearing identical worried expressions.

"Hey. Are you okay?" Taeyong asked softly, concern written all over his face. He raised his hand slowly to reach out to you, but then something snapped deep down in your consciousness that sent you bolting up into a sitting position, your feet scrambling against the mattress until your back hit the headboard. Your eyes jumped from one face to the next, heart thudding harshly against your chest.

Taeyong's expression shifted from that of shock into pain at your reaction. He didn't make any other move, his gaze briefly moving instead to the person standing beside the head of your bed.

"Taeil-hyung…"

You felt a gentle hand rest on your shoulders then. For the first time, you noticed the man in a white jacket leaning towards you. He looked unfamiliar, but there was something about him that calmed you down. He peered closer into you now, brown eyes quickly scanning your features.

"Shh… everything's okay. How are you feeling?"

His soft voice slowed your heartbeat down a little. You tried to give him an answer, wincing at the scratchiness of your throat.

"Who are you?"

"I'm a doctor. Do you know where you are right now?"

Your gaze moved from him, then back to the others who are still standing on the fringes of your bed. Now that you are much calmer, you could finally properly recognize the rest of the group in the room. Taeyong sat closest to you while Haechan and Renjun hovered by the foot of the bed wearing identical frowns. Jaemin stood by the other side, his hand wrapped around Jisung's shoulders loosely. The youngest boy looked on to you, eyes rimmed with red.

You slowly nodded after swallowing the dryness in your mouth.

"The… manor…"

You visibly saw the rest of the group give a collective sigh of relief. Taeil moved to sit beside you and gently moved your face to him to quickly check your eyes with his pen light.

"She's still a little bit confused from the fall. She does look okay though," he said and you figured he was talking to the others instead of you. You frowned as you felt him take your wrist to check your pulse.

"I… fell?"

His brown eyes glanced at you briefly.

"You did. You don't remember anything?"

Before you could even respond, you heard Taeyong gently speak from your side.

"You fell on a ravine. We heard Jisung crying when we came back and came looking for you guys as fast as we could. You were unconscious when we found you…"

You let his words sink in slowly. Little by little, your memories came slipping back like little puzzle pieces that arranged themselves slowly in the back of your mind.

You remember Chenle's screams, you running into the forest, and then the feeling of falling into nothingness. Your hands balled over the blanket covering you as your head throbbed again.

"I'm so sorry, noona," your attention moved to Jisung who leaned just a little bit closer to you. He looked like he had been crying. "Chenle and I took our playing too far. We didn't think that this would happen…" he trailed off and you saw Jaemin try to soothe him by rubbing his arm.

"Where's Chenle…? Is he alright?" You asked, remembering that the boy was calling for help before your own accident.

"Yes. He's still unconscious from the anesthesia. He broke his leg from his fall but we were able to rush him to the clinic with you," Taeyong answered again.

"Is your head hurting? We had to make a couple of stitches on you, but your scans turned out fine," the doctor, who you figured out is named Taeil, asked again. Your hand raised once more to the side of your head and noticed the bandages there for the first time. One side of your skull alternated from throbbing dully to stinging sharply.

"Um...it hurts a little bit."

Taeil simply nodded and grabbed his pen to write something on the file he was holding. "That's normal. I thought you would have some short-term memory loss so it's good that you're only dealing with pain. I'll prescribe you painkillers for it."

You listened silently to what he was saying, only half understanding the context of his words. You still felt confused… like there was something you are missing.

As if he read your mind, Taeil glanced up at you again.

"Feeling confused is normal since you hit your head. You should also expect some intense headaches for a couple of weeks, maybe even some mild hallucinations. We'll try to control that with the medicine I'll give you but we're not sure how your body will react to them so just prepare yourself for the possibility, okay?"

You numbly nodded as you watched him finish scribbling something on a smaller piece of paper.

"Other than that, you don't need to be admitted to the hospital. But feel free to come back when you don't feel better after two weeks. You do have someone at home to watch over you, right?"

That made you stop, remembering that you would be alone for a couple of days. Taeil patiently waited for your answer, hand still hovering over his files.

"I… uh… I'm alone for three days but my boyfriend will be back after that…'' you finally managed to say. He frowned slightly at your answer.

"You don't have any relatives who can watch over you?"

You shook your head.

"You can stay here with us," you heard someone say and you looked over to Renjun who was still watching you with a worried expression on his face. "At least until you have someone with you at home."

The rest of the group seemed to have been taken by surprise by his suggestion as much as you were. The boy simply looked at his brothers in answer, however, a frown settling between his brows.

"It's the least we could do, right? Technically, it is our fault. And she got in an accident while at work. We can't just leave her on her own."

Taeil looked from the group, then at you. "That's not a bad idea… you do need to be under observation at least for a couple of days."

You honestly didn't know what to answer. Something told you to say no to the offer, but another part of you simply didn't have the energy to argue with the proposition. Before you could even give a reply, Jisung untangled himself from Jaemin to hold your hand. When you looked at him, he seemed on the verge of tears again.

"Please, noona? Can I make it up to you?"

You watched him, torn by the expression on his face. Finally, you gave a sigh.

"Okay… but I do need to tell my boyfriend that I'll stay over. And I don't really have anything with me…"

"You can borrow our mom's wardrobe. I think you are about the same size," Haechan offered. "Then we can just buy your other things."

You didn't know what to feel about that but nodded at the suggestion, at least for now. With the decision finalized, Taeil finally turned to Taeyong and handed him the paper he had been writing on.

"Here’s her prescription then. I have bottles of the painkillers with me but you might need to drive back to town for the sleeping pills," he said as he turned towards the older boy. "She might need it in case she gets trouble sleeping."

Taeyong nodded as his eyes quickly scanned the paper handed over to him. "About Chenle, do I also need to get him something?"

"We can talk about that separately. How about we go check him now? He must be up around this time, too."

The older boy threw you a glance and a parting apologetic smile before following Taeil who had already picked up his bag and started heading towards the door. Beside you, Jisung quickly let go of your hand to follow the doctor.

"Taeyong-hyung, I'll go with you. Noona, I'll be back later."

You watched silently as the group left and closed the door softly behind them. You still felt a little out of it that you didn't really give notice to the three boys left inside your room until you felt your mattress dip a little. A finger to your chin broke you from your reverie, and when you turned to your side, you saw Jaemin peering at you closely.

"Does it still hurt, noona?"

You blinked at his closeness, but you still felt too weak to even panic or move away. So instead, you simply nodded, goosebumps rising on your flesh as he moved to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear.

"I'm sorry… now your pretty face is all scratched up, too. I don't think they'll leave marks though… so we don't have to worry about that, hmm…?" His eyes roamed your features slowly and deliberately. You swallowed and finally moved away for a bit.

"Do you remember what happened? Did you slip?"

Renjun's question was the distraction you were looking for. Turning to him, you gave yourself some time to process an answer, slowly shifting through the memories that were still painful and hazy for you to fully grasp. Still, you tried to recall what you could manage, your confusion only growing as you shifted through the bits and pieces of what you could remember.

There were a few things that didn't make sense to you and a few that you were also sure to be true, the most glaring one being the impossibility of you slipping down that cliff. No, you didn’t lose your footing.

You were pushed.

"No… I didn't. Something… something hit me," you finally managed to mumble. The three boys looked at each other, mild confusion in their expressions.

"Hit you? Like an animal?" Haechan asked with a concerned tone. You slightly shook your head as you thought over that possibility as well.

The thing is… you were sure there were no other people in the woods because everyone was accounted for when the accident happened. Taeyong and the kids weren't back yet from their trip and you were sure Jisung and Chenle were in another part of the forest since you heard them call out to you. Jeno is the only one left… but the chances of him being in the woods with you were also slim because of his injury. So that only leaves two possibilities—one, being a wild animal as the culprit behind your fall, or two, that someone else who isn't part of Rosewood manor was there with you in the woods.

Personally, you desperately wanted the first one to be true, but a gnawing feeling inside of you told you no. Your head might still feel a little hazy, but there's one thing you can be sure of.

The force that sent you hurtling down the cliff? That was no animal.

They were human hands.

"Might be… an animal," you whispered more to yourself than to address the boys in the room after a while. You didn't know what pushed you to lie through your teeth, but your gut feeling told you it is the right thing to do at the moment.

Haechan, Jaemin, and Renjun exchanged worried glances amongst themselves, obviously not buying what you just said. Fortunately, they didn't seem to push it for now.

"Well...we'll leave you alone tonight so you can rest. Haechan and I will try to look for clothes that could fit you so you can get changed. If you need anything, you can just press 0 on that intercom. It connects you to Taeyong-hyung," Renjun explained gently and pointed towards a small machine on the wall beside your bed. You nodded and gathered the blankets closer to you.

"We'll go now. Rest well, noona," Haechan said as he turned towards the door. Renjun followed after giving you another apologetic smile.

You waited for Jaemin to finally pick himself up from your bed as well before allowing yourself to relax. Silently, you moved your gaze towards him, only to be met by his smile. It was strange… how even though he looked so kind and gentle, the way he stared at you still sent chills running down your spine.

"Don't worry. We'll make it up to you. We'll take care of you really well…"

----- "I can drive back tonight and pick you up early tomorrow," Jaehyun said over the phone, his voice barely concealing his worry and agitation. You gnawed on your lower lip as you stared at the view outside of your room, the night sky looking foreboding without any presence of stars. You have managed to prop yourself up against the seat in front of your window out of your sheer desperation to temporarily escape the bed. It is quite ironic, maybe even strange, how you feel claustrophobic inside despite the expansive space of your quarters.

"It's fine, Jae. I'm doing much better now," you finally managed to say as you forced yourself to look away from the view of the forest beyond. Just looking at it gave you chills even though you know you should feel safe in the confines of the manor now.

"Baby, you have stitches on your head," Jaehyun tried to say that evenly, though you know just how much he is panicking right now. For a stranger, your fiance can easily pass off as unbothered and calm most of the time, but you know him enough to read him like an open book. To be honest though... you can't really blame him for how he is reacting right now.

"Yes, but I'm feeling fine now. I don't really want you to drive back this late…and besides, your workshop just started. It's only for three days anyway,” you tried to reason out, though another part of you desperately wants him by your side at the moment. You tried your best to fight it off, however, knowing how important this business trip is for him. “I think it’s okay if I stay here temporarily while I wait for you,” you added, trying your best to sound convincing.

Jaehyun was silent at the other end of the line and you patiently waited for him to speak again, knowing full well that he is just looking for another possible compromise to the situation. Finally, he sighed.

"Are you sure you are safe there though?" He asked quietly after a while. His question made you stop for a little bit, your eyes moving towards the view of the woods from your window again.

"...yes. I have a very private room right now so I can rest well," you answered as you tore your eyes away from it and forced yourself to look at the interiors of your quarters instead. Studying it now, it looks a lot like the layout of Jeno's room so you figured you must be in the same hallway.

"That's not what I mean," Jaehyun said, and you already know what he is going to say next. "What I mean is, are you sure you can trust the people there?"

It took you a few seconds to answer that. You would be lying to yourself if you say you don't feel strange and jumpy right now, but at the same time, you also feel a little guilty for harboring such emotions when the family was nice enough to offer you temporary space and care. Sure, your accident still remains a mystery, but it’s not like you can assume that anyone wanted it to happen, especially since Chenle also ended up injured. It’s because of that reason that you simply swallowed back your nerves, chalking up your odd feelings as after effects for your fall.

"Yes, of course. They haven't really bothered me that much. I don't think we should worry about it…"

Jaehyun's silence said that he wasn't entirely convinced. It took a moment for him to finally give a resigned gust of breath.

"Fine. Keep yourself safe, okay? I will call you back again tomorrow morning. Make sure you rest tonight."

"Okay...Don't worry about me too much," you said, smiling even though you know he couldn’t see you right now.

"I will still try and see if I can cut my trip shorter, alright?"

You chuckled. There it is, the compromise.

"Okay…"

"I love you. Stay safe."

"I will… Love you too."

"Oh, and honey?" You were about to cut the call when his voice stopped you again. You pressed the phone closer to your ear once more, waiting for his last words.

"Lock the door."

Your eyes flew towards the dark oak door at the other end of the room at his words.

"Okay, I will. Goodnight, baby."

You let out a tired sigh when you finally finished the call. Maybe Jaehyun was right… Maybe it wouldn't hurt if he could cut his trip and go home earlier than planned. For now though, you don't have any other choice but at least spend the first night here to recover a little more. Your wound has honestly started stinging again, maybe because the effect of the first painkillers are finally starting to wear off.

You gave one long look around your quarters before throwing your phone on the wide four poster bed. When your gaze landed on the door once more, you heard Jaehyun's reminder echoing in your mind again.

Slowly, you walked towards it, feet padding over the lush rug that covered the whole floor of the room. You noticed that there was a double lock system installed on it at least—a knob one, and a bolt-type that can be maneuvered from the inside. You gave an internal sigh of relief when you took notice of the latter, knowing that you have at least a level of protection even from those who have keys to the house. You have started to reach out to fix both locks when the door swung open all of a sudden, causing you to stumble back a little in shock.

Haechan looked back at you with the same look of surprise on his face at the threshold. For a while the two of you just stood there, staring at each other.

"Ah, I'm sorry, noona. I forgot to knock. I'm not really used to having guests here," he smiled sheepishly as he scratched the back of his head. His apologetic chuckles finally made you unfreeze from your spot.

"Tha-that's fine. I was just surprised. Why… are you here?"

"Oh, I just have to give you this," he extended his hands over to you, and for the first time, you noticed the folded garment that he was holding. You gingerly took it, feeling the softness of silk brushing your fingers.

"Renjun and I tried to look for an old night gown of our mom's that would fit you. It is a little bit old fashioned but it's clean and still holds up together so I think that would work, at least for now."

At his words, you took a closer look at the dress on your hands before unfurling it to its full length. He was right, it does look a little dated with its long sleeves, laced collar, and embroidered hem that would probably fall mid-leg on you, but the size looks just enough for your frame. You looked up at Haechan again with a smile.

"Thank you. I think this will work… But, are you sure it is okay for me to borrow it?" You asked hesitantly, eyes falling briefly again on the dress. After all, you do know the story behind their parents, and there are some people who can get a little sensitive about the possessions of their passed on loved ones. The least you could do is to bring up the question.

Haechan, however, looked the least bit bothered. You didn't catch it because you were studying the lacework on one of the cuffs under the light, but one end of his lips curled up into a smirk as his hooded gaze moved to study the dress on your hands before grazing your form from head to toe.

"No. We don't mind. It's the only female clothing that we can offer for now, unless you want to borrow one of our clothes~?"

That immediately made your eyes snap back to him. His words were innocent, but the way his voice curled made your cheeks feel hot all of a sudden.

"No, that's not what I meant—"

The embarrassment on your face must have looked too obvious because the boy suddenly burst out laughing, his giggles sounding like a lilting tune as it floated down the hallway. You've always noticed how beautiful his voice is, but it is only now that you realized how calming it is to the ears, despite your current flustered state.

"Yah, I'm kidding, noona. I was just trying to make you feel better," he said after his laughter calmed down. You tried to give him an apologetic smile and looked down on the dress in your hands, your fingers unconsciously finding comfort from the smoothness of the silk. Haechan drank your expression silently with his eyes in the brief moment that you were distracted. You have always had this independent and confident air around you normally, but you have a more subdued nature now, probably because you are hurt.

He studied you silently as a thought formed in his mind. He may like the way you carry yourself on an everyday basis, but the way you are now?

He loves it.

"Besides… I think you'll look pretty on it," he said softly, voice sounding like whispers on skin. You looked up to see him smiling at you fondly, as if he is remembering a distant memory.

You cleared your throat before nodding. "Thank you. I'll change to this tonight. Please say thanks to Renjun as well."

Haechan gave you his signature smile and clasped his hands behind his back.

"No problem. We'll check on you tomorrow again. Goodnight, noona."

You were about to close the door when you suddenly stopped halfway as you remembered something.

"Oh, sorry. Another thing."

The boy turned back to you to give you a questioning look. You smiled at him apologetically.

"Can I ask to have some of my medications? I don't know who has it but I think Taeyong was handed my prescription. It's just that, my head is hurting again so I’d like to take some before going to sleep…"

Haechan's brows raised slightly at the realization.

"Oh, Taeyong-hyung hasn't visited you yet then? Ah… I think it's because he is still busy with Chenle. I can get them for you, noona."

"Will that be okay? Really sorry for asking this."

"Stop apologizing, it's fine," he winked and you managed to return it with a grateful smile. "I'll look for Taeyong-hyung and bring you your meds. Maybe you can get changed for now."

"Thank you, Haechan."

"I'll be back," he nodded before turning on his heels again, a spring on his step.

------- "Shhh… sweetie, don't cry. You know I don't like it when you do that, right?"

A woman bent over a boy not older than seven who was currently cowering against the shadowed corner of the room. The space didn't have any lights on, but the sliver of moonlight that passed between the small crack of curtains shone on the tear-streaked face of the child. The female in front of him gently reached out for his face, cradling his cheeks lovingly between long, slender fingers.

"Look at you, you look like a mess now… stop crying, okay?" Her voice was soft and angelic when she spoke, enough to calm down the sobs wrecking the thin frame of the child before her. The boy gave a small nod which made her smile, her dainty features glowing with happiness.

"Very good. Now… you do know we have to go through this, right? You've been a bad boy so you leave me with no other choice."

The child froze in fear but softened his stance after a few heartbeats. He mumbled softly, trying his best to keep his voice from breaking.

"Yes… mother."

The woman's expression remained somber, as if she was in pain. She gently moved her hand to run her thumb over the boy's cheek, wetting her sharp fingernail with his tears.

"You do know that even if it will hurt, mother still loves you a lot, right? Mama is doing this because she cares for you a lot and she wants you to be good... my sunshine... my precious, precious boy…"

Her soothing voice mixed with her words made the boy stop crying entirely. Instead, his eyes shone with pure adoration for her.

"Yes, mama… I know that."

The lady smiled. Her eyes scanned the features of the child momentarily before finally letting her hand holding his face drop to her side. Slowly, she straightened up again to her full height, but not before grabbing for something from the floor beside her. The moonlight caught it before it got swallowed by the darkness of the room again—a leather belt so thin it almost looks like a whip.

The woman raised her hand gracefully above her head before giving one last loving smile at the boy on the floor.

"Now, try not to scream too much… we don't want to hurt your voice."

---- Haechan softly hummed a happy tune as he walked through the wing of the house where their private quarters are. It was late at night and the rest of his brothers had retreated back into their own rooms despite all the excitement that happened in the past few hours. His gaze touched each door as he passed them, a smile curling the tips of his lips as he did.

There are a few things that Haechan believes sets him apart from the rest of his family. He isn't as physically strong as Jeno, as charismatic as Jaemin, or as patient and quiet as Renjun. He isn't as friendly and likable as Mark, nor is he also as innocent and magnetic as Jisung and Chenle.

What Haechan is, however...is smart and cunning…

He is smart enough to always be two steps ahead of everyone and cunning enough to move the pieces that he set without having to lift a finger if he wanted to. There is a subtleness in him that doesn't make red flags flash in someone’s head unlike Jaemin does whenever he can't control his neediness, but he has enough pull to get under someone's skin if he wanted to unlike Renjun who prefers the quiet and watchful approach. Oh and Jeno? He knows how to use Jeno's strength well.

He knows it enough to suggest to his brother to give a little friendly push to the right direction—or rather, to the right cliff—so the wheel can finally move. Sure, it might hurt someone, maybe even break a bone or two, but that's normal. After all, when you love, you should be willing to hurt a little.

His hums died when he finally stopped at the last room down the hallway, mind trying to picture what's on the other side. His gaze quickly glanced at the small tray in his hands carrying a small glass of water and a variety of pills that gleamed under the dim lighting. He smiled. Finally, he raised his hand to gently tap on the oak door in front of him.

"Noona, can I come in? I have your medicine with me."

He heard a soft rustling from the other side before the door finally opened. Silently, Haechan took a calming breath and tried his best to look casual at the vision that welcomed him. Of course he was right. The dress looked perfect on her, almost as if she was the original owner of it. She looked like she stepped out from a dream… his dreams.

Oh and what he would do to keep her there.

He gave her a friendly smile now as he pushed the tray to her hands. She returned it with a grateful look before studying the oddly matched colors of pills there silently. They shone dully under the dim lighting of the hallway, as if officially warning the start of something.

Yes, Haechan believes that there are a few things that starkly sets him apart from the rest of his brothers. But if he were to choose one, he would say he is ruthless. Ruthless enough to drag someone down a little, all the while wearing that sunny smile on his face.

After all, a little nightmare won't hurt anyone.

"Don't forget to take them so you can feel better, okay noona?"

---

CHAPTER 5

A/N: Okaaay so the core four have finally been covered. Guess it’s time to ask now who is the scariest? JK. Taglist below!

@negincho, @jhornytrash, @jaeminhyuckiii, @jungwoosswhore, @jsturkey, @aj–7, @pukupukupawpau, @tomiesgirlfren, @vsszn, @those-winternights, ---

#nct dream fic #nct dream yandere #nct dream 00 liner yandere #nct dream 00 line x reader #haechan x reader #jeno x reader #jaemin x reader #renjun x reader #nct chenle #nct jisung #nct taeyong #nct taeil #nct yandere imagines #jaehyun x reader #nct horror au #nct dream yandere au #nct dream 00 line yandere fic #nct-writers

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invisibleanonymousmonsters · 3 years

Text

my body is a cage.

ObNeSummary: Y/N’s worst nightmare has become a reality. Her only saving grace is that she doesn’t have to do it alone.

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4,000+ [One Shot]

Warning: Feminist Issues, Adult/Mature Themes (NOT smut)

Y/N could feel her heart start racing faster as she studied the doctor’s office. Now she was starting to sweat as well.

Her doctor were running late and that meant Y/N was stuck looking at the nondescript walls and smelling that sterile scent for 20 minutes. It felt like an hour.

It was just a follow-up appointment. There was no bad news expected to be given. But that didn’t stop Y/N’s anxiety.

Y/N finally gave up on trying to calm herself down through breathing and reached down to grab her cellphone out of her purse.

There was a two text message notifications: one from her mom and one from Jason.

She opened the one from Jason.

– Good luck at your appointment today. Remember to breathe.

Y/N smirked at the message. Jason knew how stressed out Y/N got for literally any type of doctor’s appointments. Even if it was just your usual checkup – like today – it caused her anxiety for some reason.

Jason must’ve sent it right before passing out after patrol.

Finally the doctor came in, making Y/N jump and almost drop her phone. She hid her scare well and quickly put her phone back into her purse.

“Hi Y/N, so we finally got your blood work back,” she began.

“Great. Will I be able to get a prescription and pick it up today?” Y/N asked quickly, wanting to get out of there as quickly as possible.

“So one of the many reasons we get blood drawn before prescribing this medication is to make sure you’re not pregnant before going on it.” Before Y/N could speak, she quickly added. “You’re test results came back positive.”

Y/N’s mouth opened at the statement.

Her mind was going a million miles a second, trying to process what the doctor has just told her.

When was the last time she had her period?

Why did it feel 20 degrees hotter in here all of the sudden?

This couldn’t be happening. No. No. No. This really couldn’t be happening. She tried so, so hard to make sure this didn’t happen. This was her nightmare. This was her fucking nightmare coming to fucking life.

By some miracle, the doctor didn’t smile with joy and exclaim a congratulations. She seemed to sense that Y/N was on the brink of having an anxiety attack.

“I remember you saying you did’t intend on ever having any kids, so I’m sure this is a lot to process,” the doctor told her gently. “Why don’t we hold off on this medication – even if it’s just for a couple of days? Just give yourself a second to process and come up with a plan.” Then she gave Y/N an encouraging smile. “When you want to make another appointment, I’ll make sure reception squeezes you in. Alright?”

Y/N couldn’t do anything but nod – and even that was far too delayed.

“Do you want me to call someone for you?” The doctor asked softly.

But Y/N shook her head.

When Y/N got out of the doctor’s office and back on the streets of Gotham, she seemed to snap out of it a bit.

Her ears weren’t ringing any longer and the cold, winter air was doing miracles.

‘Get to Jason,’ Y/N’s heart suddenly screamed at her.

And just like that, Y/N went into autopilot, grabbed a cab, and gave them her address. As she watched the buildings go by, Y/N’s mind was simultaneously thinking a million things and thinking nothing at all. It was almost a buzz.

When she got back to her apartment, the TV was on but the volume was off. Sometimes Jason would watch it after patrol and hope it would bore him to sleep. But her giant, vigilante of a boyfriend wasn’t sleeping on the couch, so that meant he was in their bed.

Y/N toed off her shoes, tossed her keys on the side table by the door, and hung her denim jacket – no, Jason’s denim jacket – on the coat rack.

She slowly pushed the bedroom door open to find Jason passed out on his side. His arm was reached over to the other side of the bed as if his body had searched out for hers in his sleep and came up empty.

Y/N tiptoed to the bed and carefully slid into the empty side of the bed.

Jason stayed asleep, meaning he must’ve been really exhausted. Usually her presence would stir him, even if it was just for a few seconds.

Sometimes Y/N would come in here when she got back from work and take a cat nap with him before getting started on dinner or leaving to work out. Sometimes she would just cuddle with him, he would wake up and sleepily ask about her day while bringing her into his – even when she told him to go back to sleep.

Now Y/N laid on her side and watched him sleep.

Even when he looked exhausted and various scars were scattered across his face, Jason Todd was beautiful.

And when he was sleeping like this, he looked so young. Y/N wondered if that was how Jason always looked to Bruce: innocent, vulnerable, forever young.

Y/N reached forward shakily and brushed the white streak of his hair off his face. His hair was getting shaggier than usually allowed. She wondered if he’d ask her to cut it again or if he’d finally listen to her and go to a barber.

“You run your hands through my hair and I’ll be putty in your hands,” he mumbled with his eyes still closed.

Y/N froze and stopped her combing, her hands shooting back to her chest.

Her silence and pause made Jason’s eyes squint open.

Those blue eyes of his were always perception, especially when it came to the woman he loved with all his heart. And as soon as they locked with Y/Ns, they immediately knew that something was wrong.

His brow wrinkled. “You OK?” His voice laced with worry and concern.

Suddenly… Y/N’s mind and body were given the chance to release the reaction they wanted to have since the news was broken.

Her bottom lip trembled a moment before tears burst from her eyes.

And then Y/N was shoving her face into her boyfriend’s chest.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Jason consoled. “What happened? What’s going on?”

But Y/N couldn’t even form words. She was fully hyperventilating.

Her chest literally hurt as the sobs escaped. She was shaking as if it was freezing in the room, despite Jason’s body basically being her own personal furnace. And she felt like she was going to throw up at any second.

Was that morning sickness? Or was the just good ol’ fashioned nausea?

Jason quickly realized he wasn’t going to get any verbal communication right now. So he just held her in his arms, letting her cry it out as he rubbed a hand up and down her back.

But his mind was shuffling through all of the possibilities.

Had someone hurt her? Did she get fired? Did a group of assholes catcall her on the way home?

But none of those seemed like things that would upset Y/N in such a manner.

“Breathe, Y/N. Take a deep breath,” he told her calmly as he kissed the top of her head.

She barely gave a nod to show that she was trying to do what he advised.

With her eyes wet and bloodshot from tears and her face swollen, Y/N finally pulled away from Jason’s chest so he could see her.

“Deep breath,” he reminded her again gently. “Can you tell me what’s gotten you so upset? Can you do that for me?”

Y/N sniffled, really just to buy herself a second before she said it.

“I’m pregnant.”

Jason’s body tensed. His eyes studied hers, looking for any sign that she was not being absolutely serious.

“Fuckin’ Christ,” Jason muttered, now realizing why she’d had such a reaction.

But then he quickly recovered, realizing that she still needed him because she was freaking the fuck out. Obviously. She just had a full-on panic attack in his arms. And she was probably moments away from possibly having another.

“Hey,” he whispered. “Hey, look at me.”

She took in a deep breath and did as he asked.

“No one is going to make you do anything you don’t want to. OK?”

She just stared at him.

“OK?” He asked again, making sure she understood what he was telling her.

She nodded.

“I don’t want it,” Y/N exhaled.

The words came out on their own, like she had no control over them.

Jason winced, not at her statement, but because she sounded so desperate and scared.

He gave her a sympathetic look and cupped her cheek. “I know, Y/N. I know.”

Then he brought her back into his arms, holding her protectively, as usual – but protecting her from something he never had to before.

“I know how you feel about it. I’ve always did,” he told her softly. “Just try to relax. OK?”

She nodded.

Jason didn’t try to fill the silence. He didn’t try to say comfort after comfort. His touch did more things for Y/N then he words ever did. She needed to be held, not lectured or verbally coddled.

After a few moments, he looked down at her. “We can order from your favorite place, OK? Have a little movie marathon or finish watching that show.”

She gave him a small, shy smile at that.

“Sound good,” he asked.

She nodded again.

———

30 minutes later, Jason was scrolling the internet, researching Planned Parenthood locations while waiting for their takeout to get there.

Y/N, exhausted from her emotional and mental breakdown, had fallen asleep a few minutes after telling Jason the news.

Jason figured the least he could do is take the logistical weight off Y/N’s shoulders. All of this was happening to her and it was his fault. He knew she’d never frame it that way, but that’s how he felt right now. And he’d do anything to make it easier for her.

But all of the sudden, the hairs on the back of Jason’s neck suddenly stood on end.

The next millisecond, he grabbed the nearest hidden gun, shot to his feet, and pointed it at the window.

“Relax, Todd.”

“Demon Spawn, what the fuck are you doing here?” Jason lowered the gun.

To Jason’s annoyance, Damian jumped down from the window and into the apartment, dressed in his full Robin uniform.

“When you texted about covering your patrol tonight, father asked me to check on you.”

Jason narrowed his eyes. “Liar. No, he didn’t.”

“So, why aren’t you on patrol?”

“Y/N needed me.”

Damian’s body tensed.

For as much of hard time as Damian gave Jason, he didn’t mind his girlfriend. However, the preteen would never admit to actually liking her or enjoying time spent with her. But the whole family saw it anyway.

“Is she sick?”

Jason just nodded, not really having the energy to compose a big lie.

Then Damian caught sight of the laptop screen and saw what Jason had been researching.

“Oh,” Damian blurted out without thinking. It was a very unusual reaction from him. He always had something to say.

“Just…keep it to yourself, k?” Jason asked.

The last thing he needed right now was Damian blabbing around about Y/N.

But Damian nodded, not giving any further reaction to his discovery.

———

“What’s Alfred the Cat doing here?” Y/N asked as she cradled the cat and walking into the kitchen the next morning.

“Damian,” was all Jason provided.

Y/N laughed at his crypticness. “Did he need a cat sitter?”

Jason shook his head. “He came snooping when I told them I wasn’t going on patrol. And…Well, he’s Bruce’s kid, so you can imagine how quickly he put it together.”

Y/N’s amusement dropped when she realized what Jason was saying.

“He brought some of human Alfred’s cookies for you, too.” Jason added quickly, maybe to soften the blow a bit.

“That was sweet of him,” was all Y/N mumbled in return.

“I think he was worried about you. Figured some cookies and cuddles from Alfred would make you feel better,” Jason explained. “Of course, he didn’t verbally express any of that because he’s emotionally constipated.”

Y/N managed to force a smirk at the joke.

Silence filled the kitchen.

“I made you an appointment today,” Jason told her gently. “Not that I’m trying to force you to do anything. You can cancel it if you want to. I was just trying to–”

“Thank you,” Y/N cut him off and dropped the cat to wrap Jason in a hug. “Thank you, Jason.” She repeated, mumbled this time, since her face was now buried in his chest.

“Of course,” he told her before kissing her head. “Want some breakfast?”

He chuckled when he felt her nodding enthusiastically against him.

“Your favorite?”

She nodded again.

“You gonna let me go so I can make it?”

She shook her head no.

“Alright, spider monkey, let’s do this.”

Y/N’s laughter filled the room as Jason somehow managed to maneuver her body so she was on his back with her arms wrapped around his neck. And she piggybacked around the kitchen with him as he made them breakfast.

———

“Welp,” Y/N said bitterly as she looked at the building from across the street. “Don’t know how I wasn’t expecting this.”

Jason sighed as he watched too.

There were a dozen people with picket signs. One said, “It’s a child, not a choice.” Another said, “Jesus loves you both.” One of the men had a megaphone. One woman held a box with figurines that inaccurately showed how far along the fetus would be when it’s aborted.

“Wait here,” was all Jason said.

“Wait, what? Jason! Jason, don’t!” Y/N hissed.

But Jason was already halfway across the street. With the traffic and general noice of Gotham, Y/N could hear nothing. But it was clear that he was talking to him.

“Oh, for christ’s sake,” Y/N sighed when she saw all of their faces shift to utter horror. Whatever he was saying to them had clearly terrified them.

It only took a minute before Jason jogged back to her and offered his hand.

“Come on,” he said encouragingly.

“What the fuck did you just do?” She asked him.

“I told them all of their names, social security numbers, and addresses,” Jason told her lightly. “Oh! And their top porn searched.” He gave them a glance. “And said if they even so much as looked at you, I would do what I wanted with that information."

“So…you threatened them.”

Jason tilted his head and shrugged innocently. “I wouldn’t put it that way…”

“Jason…” she groaned.

“I thought you would be proud. I didn’t use physical violence. I’m growing!”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh.

But lo and behold, none of the protesters so much as faced their direction as they walked past.

Y/N wondered how long it took Jason to memorize all that information. Did he ask Tim to hack street cameras and use face recognition to even find all of them?

In the most messed up way, it warmed Y/N’s heart. It just showed a new angle of Jason’s protectiveness. Guess that was just another perk of dating a dangerous vigilante with too many connections and resources.

Besides his little threat, Jason hadn’t let go of Y/N’s hand since they left the apartment – even now, as they sat in the waiting room.

If he was anxious at all, he was doing a beautiful job of hiding it.

Y/N guessed that’s what happened when someone had the history of Jason. This was like a walk in the park for him.

But when they called her name, Y/N looked at Jason with slight panic.

“I can’t go with you. It’s against policy,” he told her softly. “But I’ll be right here when you get out. OK?”

She nodded.

He must’ve learned that when he was doing all his research.

“You good? Huh?” He whispered, keeping eye contact.

She nodded again.

“You’ll be fine,” then he kissed her.

Just as Y/N reached the nurse, she turned to her boyfriend again. “I love you,” she mouthed to him.

“I love you too,” he mouthed back.

———

Y/N had been drained when they finally got back to their apartment.

All she wanted was to take a nap with her boyfriend.

A couple hours later, she had finally had the energy to stay awake.

But neither of them had any interest in getting out of bed. So instead they stayed cuddled close.

“How are you feeling?” Jason asked her.

“Physically or mentally?”

“Both.”

“Physically, fine mostly. Some cramping. They said that was normal. But my period is ten times worse.” Then she sighed. “Mentally…like…I’m in control. Does that make sense?”

Jason nodded.

“And relieved. Fuck,” she half laughed. “I can’t tell you how relieved I am.”

“I’m glad.”

Then Y/N smirked mischievously. “Are you sad you won’t see me wearing those stupid overalls with a baby bump,” then she dramatically fanned her hands, “as we have a montage of us painting a nursery?”

Jason laughed at that. “OK. Well I don’t live in a fucking Lifetime commercial.” Then he smirked. “I’ll take the overalls without the baby bump, though.”

She giggled at that.

“But it’s a real shame we couldn’t have a gender reveal party and burn down all of Gotham accidentally…” Jason thought aloud.

Y/N tried to suppress a smile, “…you do realize the point of those parties is to reveal the baby’s gender and not to burn a city down, right?”

“Well, fuck.” Jason played dumb. “The only appealing part of that was the arson.”

“It would’ve been funny to fuck with people, though.” Y/N’s eyes went distant as she thought about it. “Put in black balloons or just a rainbow assortment. And just see how everyone reacted.”

“Missed opportunity,” Jason sighed.

“Why are traditions so stupid and embarrassing?”

They both laughed.

“I’d have to suffer through a stupid baby shower. And then you’d get to come in at the very end and just wave at everyone. Men really got it made, huh? Just show up, and everyone applauds.”

Jason laughed, knowing she was absolutely right. Enough of the Justice League had kids for him to know that was how it worked.

“Like those videos where dads do their daughter’s hair and everyone loses their mind and praises him. But name one time a video has gone viral of a mom doing her kid’s hair.”

“The bar’s low,” he reminded Y/N.

But then Jason watched Y/N’s smile fall from her face as she got lost in her head.

“What?”

Her brow furrowed. “Do you think I’m a bad person?”

“What?” He gripped her chin. “Absolutely not.”

“I don’t feel bad. There’s no remorse,” Y/N mumbled with as her eyes zoned out. “All I feel is weight lifted off of me.”

“Hey,” his voice was low and serious. “Hey, look at me.”

He waited for her to do what he asked. “You’re not a bad person. You hear me?”

Then he started making himself angry with the thought that anyone would ever tell Y/N otherwise.

“You know what a bad person looks like? Someone who doesn’t take having a child seriously. Someone who makes that decision half-assed, knowing they’re bringing a child into a toxic environment or that they can’t properly take care of them.”

Jason made himself calm down. “That doesn’t make you a bad person. It just proves that you did exactly what you knew was best.”

She nodded, finally convinced by his words.

Y/N reached forward and brushed some hair off his face.

Jason was so god damn handsome. No wonder I got pregnant, she thought darkly. This is exactly how she got into this mess. It was hard just to keep her hands off of him.

“If I ask you something, do you promise you’ll tell me the truth?”

He cocked an eyebrow at her. “I’ll try my best.”

Her eyes twisted into something somber and afraid.

“Do you really never want kids?”

Jason should’ve expected this question at some point.

Even though Y/N didn’t verbalize it, Jason knew that one of her biggest fear throughout all of this was that it would change their relationship. She was scared that he would resent her, that he would change his mind and beg her to keep it.

Maybe it was her tone that was really the thing that caught him off guard. She sounded so scared of what he would say.

Jason rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. Not because he wanted to hide the truth by stopping her from staring into his eyes. He just wanted to make sure he collected al of this thoughts. She deserved a proper answer.

“I never planned on being a father,” the statement was unwavering. “You know how my childhood went. And I see the same thing happening to kids all over Gotham today – some of them have it so much worse than I did.”

Y/N reached forward and placed her palm on his chest, right over his heart. Without thinking, his hand went to grip it.

“But you would never be like that,” she assured him. “You’re a good man, Jason. I mean, just look at how you are with Damian – no matter how hard you try to hide your soft spot for that boy.”

“I know I can be a good father. Except before you were in my life, I didn’t know that.”

If he were really tell the truth, he would tell Y/N that without her, there most likely wouldn’t even be a Jason Todd...only Red Hood.

He looked away from the ceiling and back at her. “But that doesn’t want I want to be.”

“So you can honestly say that you never want a family? Even if wasn’t with me?”

“Y/N, look at my family,” Jason laughed. “None of us our related. Bruce is a mess of a father. His biological son was basically artificially inseminated. The butler is more like our grandma who raised us. All of them tried to take me down and imprison me at one point or another...”

He shook his head at the ridiculousness. “The point is that I know more than anyone that family can look like a million different things. And the perfect outline society has forced onto us doesn’t actually mean shit.”

He grinned. “My family is a group of vigilantes who don’t know how to quit.” His eyes softened. “And then there’s you. You’re my family, too. I don’t need add anything else for that to be true.”

Y/N couldn’t help herself and she practically tackled him into a kiss.

Jason gripped her waist and twisted them so she was straddling his waist, and his hands traced up and down the side of her ribcage.

After their lips separate, Y/N looked down at him lovingly.

She let a moment pass.

“What if I changed my mind?”

“I think you and I both know you never will.”

“But what if I did?” She insisted.

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “I really don’t.”

Y/N just wanted to challenge him. She wanted to go through all the scenarios her mind wouldn’t stop thinking about. She needed answers to the hypothetical scenarios that would never come to be.

“I’m not going to change my mind,” she told him certainly.

“I know, Y/N.”

She kissed him again. “Thank you for supporting me through all of this.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” he scoffed. “It’s my fault.”

And he meant it. Most days, Jason had to convince himself he was worthy of her love. What kind of man would be lucky enough to have Y/N as their girl and not do everything in his power to make sure it stayed that way?

“No, it wasn’t,” she corrected him seriously. “It was both of us.”

“You can’t scare me away,” Jason told her. “Nothing is ever gonna stop me from loving you. Got it?”

She nodded.

But before she could say anything more, Jason wrapped her in a heated kiss.

He knew these questions were her anxiety manifesting itself. And Y/N had enough stress for today. So he’d turned off her mind with his touches.

She deserved a break.

-----------------

I don’t know how I managed to write yet another one of these fics. But I realized it was easier to give it a new twist since Jason Todd has a sense of humor and an edge that Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers do not. Also, he wasn’t raised in the 1930s. lol

Please, please, please let me know if you liked it!!!

If anyone is interested in movies on this topic, I highly recommend these:

Never Rarely Sometimes Always

Unpregnant

4 Months, 3 Weeks, 2 Days

Obvious Child

#jason todd fic #jason todd x reader #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd reader insert #red hood fic #red hood x reader #red hood reader insert #batfam #batman family #batboys #dc #batman universe #jason todd angst #pro choice #pro-choice #feminism

812 notes · View notes

olivia-anderson-fanfic · 3 years

Text

Into The Unknown, Part 11

First

Marinette was going to kill Tim.

His alarm had been going off for about three minutes now and she was going to kill him.

She sighed and finished the wing of her eyeliner and poked her head out of the bathroom to Definitely Not Curse In Front Of A Baby.

His phone was facedown and threatening to buzz itself off of the kitchen table.

She rolled her eyes and walked over to silence it, then looked around for the person who, for some reason, didn’t do that.

Tim… looked like he might already be dead?

He was still in bed, but he had also pulled all the blankets off of the corners in order to cocoon himself properly. She hesitantly glanced back at Damian, who was currently pretending to put makeup on the plush cat’s (named ‘Cat’, of course, she was beginning to sense a theme here) face. Alright, he was distracted for at least a little while.

She made her way over to Tim and, after tossing his phone onto the bedside table because she wasn’t actually sure whether she had pressed snooze or cancel, sat next to him. “Tim? You alright?”

He groaned a little and attempted to roll his cocoon away from her. It wasn’t really working. The blankets were holding him down. He had been betrayed by what he loved.

Marinette sighed and reached a hand out to feel his forehead.

Not too warm but definitely a little feverish.

She shook her head slightly and walked over to the medicine cabinet. Damian watched her with interest, green eyes wide. She flashed the kid a smile to say everything was okay -- even if it might not be from the looks of things -- and then pulled a pill bottle from the shelf. Tim had brought his meds over from the other world and she had assumed that he had made sure to give himself a prescription in this world while he was making their identities but...

Yep. He needed a refill.

“Dumbass,” she murmured, shaking her head as she put it back.

She pulled out her phone and checked to make sure that she could bring Damian to work even as an intern… yep! At least that was good.

She sighed and looked over at Tim, who had barely moved outside of pulling his phone into the cocoon. It wasn’t on, no light was emanating from it, apparently he just wanted to have it with him. Maybe it was like a stuffed animal for him, she joked mentally.

...

She sighed. Man, it was hard to tease him when he looked like that.

(… because it was too easy, obviously. What other reasons were there?)

Fine. She’d save it all up for later. For now she could be… nice-ish.

“Got a favorite tea?”

He mumbled more incoherently than Damian for a few moments before managing to choke out: “Coffee.”

She resisted the urge to flick him on the forehead and instead just got up to make him some lemon and ginger tea. Because even the most basic of bitches can’t hate lemon and ginger tea.

When she started back over Damian saw her walk past and made a quiet sound in the back of his throat to get her attention. He reached his hands out for her. She sighed and clumsily pulled him out of the high chair with one arm and positioned him on her hip.

Marinette set the tea on the bedside table. Tim glared at her for a moment and then looked pointedly at the drink.

“When you get better I’ll brew you coffee myself, but you need to at least try and be healthy until you heal up,” she promised with only minimal eye rolling.

“Not what I’m mad about,” he said, still looking at the drink as if he could will it to… be right or something.

“... do you want sugar or cream or...?” She asked once it became clear he was trying to make her guess.

“Coaster,” he said.

She groaned and quickly found one. She threw it down far harsher than was strictly necessary. Tim was worse than her mom about coasters. Let her ruin the furniture, damn it!

By the time she had gotten back Damian had started trying to crawl into the cocoon and, while the idea of the baby trying to heal Tim via cuddles was very cute, Marinette had to pull him away. Babies don’t have immune systems yet, she was pretty sure. Putting him around a sick Tim was basically asking to end up with two sick idiots to take care of.

Damian squirmed in her hands, trying to free himself so he could get back to Tim. “Bu… Nano!”

Tim smiled weakly and reached a hand out to rest on top of Damian’s head. “It’s fine, kiddo. Just gonna… sleep a little.”

“And you’re going to be coming with me to work! Doesn’t that sound fun?” She asked in her sweetest voice.

Damian scowled. “Nano.”

“‘Nano’ needs sleep,” she tried again.

Damian shook his head. Marinette glanced at the time and cringed. Alright. Looks like there’s no time to do this in a gentle way.

She glanced at Kaalki. “Lock the door behind me?”

Kaalki looked up. She had… put a portal on the ceiling on the floor and was, apparently, trying to see how fast she could get the empty water bottle to fall before it started to melt.

The kwami shrugged. Marinette was going to take it as a yes.

She allowed Damian to get one last hug from Tim while she slipped on her shoes and gathered everything she’d need for the day... and then she grabbed him and sprinted out the door before the kid could get too angry.

… and so, screaming baby in her arms, she ran to catch the train.

The crying didn’t stop for a long time. Or maybe it was only five minutes. It still felt like forever. It was the first time Damian was really away from Tim (when she was taking care of Damian Tim was still in the house and able to get there at any point, so those times didn’t really count) in almost three months. Of course the kid was freaking out.

… he was definitely going to freak out even more when he realized that Marinette was leaving, too.

Was it too late to call in sick for work?

Probably.

Well, it was going to have to happen eventually.

She groaned a little to herself and hugged Damian closer in her lap, chin resting on top of his head. The subway was interesting to him, it seemed. That was fair. Public transportation is weird. There was a guy doing stripper moves on one of the poles and Marinette was hardly even phased. At least Damian was enjoying it, clapping excitedly and yelling “raqs!” at the ‘performer’.

But, all too soon, she reached her stop. She waved to the man with Damian and then carried him out to her job.

There was a lot of paperwork involved with signing a kid up for daycare. She didn't know why this surprised her, but it did. It was a pain, too. Remembering all the fake birth dates and names and affiliations that they had come up with. She had been tempted to pull up her cheat sheet on her phone but she was scared that would make her look like an incompetent parent -- or worse, like she was faking the entire thing and wasn’t even biologically or legally related to the kid.

It was an irrational fear, she knew, but damn was it prevalent.

So, she just glared at the papers. She could see Damian doing the same from where he had sat himself down on the table, occasionally glancing over to make sure that this was still what they were doing. It was kind of cute. It was very hard to remain angry through that.

She nuzzled her nose against his cheek, smiling at the little giggles he gave.

She went back to the paperwork in considerably lighter spirits. Once she had finally filled out all the vaccination records (and made a mental note to actually try and figure out how many vaccines the kid had, if any) she sighed and turned to the kid.

“Alrighty, I gotta go to work, Dami.”

Damian didn’t understand much English yet, a byproduct of suddenly being introduced to the language after a year of only being spoken to in Arabic, but he certainly understood what those words meant: she was about to leave him.

And it wasn’t like he didn’t cry a little when she left every day, the little sniffles and pleading looks weren’t at all new to her. But, now that Tim wasn’t there, he was full-on wailing. He crawled to the edge of the table, towards her, and she had to lunge to catch him before he fell…

But apparently this was the plan, because he instantly fisted his little hands in her shirt and curled up in her arms.

… damn. How was she supposed to just leave when he was like this…?

She held him tighter, nuzzling her face in his hair. “It’s just a little while, Dami. I’ll be back. I’ll come back. Sa’aeud. I’ll be back.”

Damian buried himself closer in her shirt and she sighed, looking up at the poor daycare worker.

“I’m sorry…”

“First time you’re leaving him with someone else?” The woman said with a kind smile. Her name was Ava, according to her name tag.

Marinette nodded helplessly. Damian had wrapped his little legs around her. His grip was surprisingly strong. It would definitely take a lot of effort to pry the kid off. If she walked over to her boss he could see the situation and he might give her the day off, he was just a few floors away, she should at least try --.

Ava knelt down next to her and reached a hand for Damian.

Slowly, reluctantly, Marinette opened her arms so the woman could detach Damian from her.

“All kids are like this the first few times. Think of it as a compliment: he thinks you’re safe.”

Marinette nodded slightly and helped pull one of Damian’s hands from her shirt. Damian stopped crying to look up at her, eyes wide and glassy with tears, and then he started crying harder, she hadn’t even thought that that was possible --.

Ava managed to pull Damian off of Marinette and, while the kid was still, he was still hiccuping he was crying so hard.

Marinette gave him a sad smile. “It’ll be okay, Dami. ‘ant bi’aman. Sa’aeud.”

He didn’t look like he believed her assurances.

“Mar-ree?” He tried, one last time, reaching one little hand out for her.

She gently took the hand, pressing a kiss into his palm. “I gotta go to work, Dami.”

Damian’s hand dropped.

Ava gave her a tiny smile and knocked shoulders with her. “Cheer up. You did everything right by saying you’ll come back to him. Say that every time and, eventually, he’ll start to believe you.”

She nodded. She wasn’t happy about it, though. She just watched Damian cry as he was taken into the daycare room until Ava had the sense to close the door.

… when she came back at the end of the day, Damian was enjoying himself.

He was playing a game with Ava. Ava would try and build something with blocks and he would wait until he had determined that she was almost done before knocking it over. What an asshole. She loved him.

She smiled faintly and waved at him when he noticed her. He instantly lit up, pushing himself up onto shaky feet and toddling (wait, is that why they’re called toddlers?!) over to her. He was getting better at walking. He managed to get three-fourths of the way across the room before he fell to his knees and crawled the rest of the way. She smiled and picked him up, nuzzling her nose against his cheek.

“Hey, Dami.”

“Mar-ree! Hi!”

Aw, he learned what ‘hi’ means! She thought but she wasn’t going to say that aloud.

“Make any friends?” She said instead.

Damian stared at her with wide eyes. She smiled and pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

Ava gave her a tiny smile as she walked over. “Sorry, but I do have to ask for ID.”

“... you saw me drop him off… literally this morning?”

“Yeah, I know. Just protocol,” she said, giving an apologetic smile.

Marinette shrugged a little and nodded, carefully shifting Damian to one arm so she could do that. She also had to fill out a little paper that asked for a review of their services and any suggestions. Marinette wrote the words ‘pay the people more’, because taking care of one kid was stressful enough, she couldn’t imagine taking care of multiple at the same time, no amount of money would be enough to convince her to do that.

After she had signed every form that needed signing, she was free to leave.

And so, a good two hours after she usually left work, she started on the commute home with her kid.

Damian enjoyed the ride home even more than the ride there. The person that had been sitting next to Marinette had brought a sketchbook along and, when Damian had watched with that wide-eyed baby stare, had given him a piece of paper and pencil so he could do some work of his own.

Damian presented Marinette with a bunch of scribbles halfway through the ride, beaming widely.

“Tell me about your work,” she said jokingly.

Damian seemed to get it, because he took the paper from her and started babbling along and pointing to different areas as he explained what his thought process was.

(And, if Marinette missed her stop so he could talk longer, well, no one had to know.)

~~~~~

@unoriginalmess @hammalammadamdam @astrynyx @laurcad123 @927roses-and-stuff @toodaloo-kangaroo

#everyone when they see itu updated: *sighs and tabs over to word hippo*#into the unknown #maribat #timinette #timari #timmari #shutterbug #ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #red robin #tim drake

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bluemusickid · 3 years

Note

Hi! I hope you're doing well 🥰 Can you I request one where Steve breaks reader's arm or leg by mistake during training and has to take care of her afterwards? Definitely won't mind if some smut is added 😅 Thank you!!

OMFGGGG MY FAV WRITER SENT AN ASK ASDFGHJKL (Also full disclosure: this has been one of my kinks for a while :P)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

Warnings: slow burn (just a tad), 18+, SMUTTTT, unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy), did I mention NSFW? Read at your own risk.

A/N: I would like to thank @imdarkinme for sending in this AMAZING ask! She’s a doll and I’ve been a fan of her writing for so long!! I would also like to thank @donutloverxo for converting me to a Steve Stan loool. I wanted him to be a bit dark here, but in the end his dorky side won. :P Without further ado, I hope you enjoy!! Send in your requests here and you can join my taglist here (or you could just send an ask lmao)! Thanks!

I post my stuff only on AO3 and here, nowhere else.

The Learning Curve

You groaned as you got up from the mat, yet again. It was dumb of you to ask Captain Rogers to train with you. As a new recruit, you’d obviously wanted to impress him; he was the leader of the Avengers after all. There was only one tiny problem you forgot to factor in: the man was a Super Soldier, while you were...not.

“Come on, get up! We still have two rounds to go!” a voice bellowed from above you.

You mentally cursed at the voice. You’d tried to not let it affect you, but like many others, you had a bit of a crush on the Captain. But it wasn’t solely because of his looks, it was more about his passion to help and save and to protect. He was always so passionate, it was hard to keep away(which was a fiercely guarded secret). You felt like Icarus, when you were with him.

Getting up, you tried to block his punches, while getting in a few yourself. It was impossible, the man was a champ. You saw your opening, however, when he seemed to be distracted by someone approaching him from behind you. Seeing this as a golden opportunity to catch him off guard, you threw a punch aiming for his face. Unfortunately, he blocked the punch and pushed you, to ward you off. It seemed as if he too, forgot that he was a Super Soldier, pushing you a bit too hard.

You screamed as you fell to the ground, twisting to save your face, your arm breaking your fall. Your suspicions were confirmed as you tried to move your arm but couldn’t. Steve heard you yelp and rushed to your side, carefully inspecting your injured appendage. You squealed as he touched your arm, the pain indescribable. Steve whispered his apologies a million times, trying to haul you up by your waist, in vain. Finally, he gave up and picked you up bridal style, like you weighed nothing.

You gasped, partially out of pain, but mostly out of surprise at the sudden move.

“Umm...Cap..tain..I..can..walk..” you stuttered, unable to keep the pain out of your voice.

He looked into your eyes and smiled, shaking his head. Oh dear lord. This man truly was gorgeous. Nearing the MedBay, he slowly placed you on the bed, his mouth tantalisingly close to yours as he lowered you onto the surface. You never realised how blue his eyes were, which at the moment were filled to the brim with anxiety and some other emotion; which you couldn’t quite place your finger on. Deciding you were probably delirious from the pain, you tried to focus on what the doctor was telling you.

“...so you’ll have to be on constant bedrest for the next two weeks before we can check again to see if you need a rod put in.”

“Err, I’m sorry doc, what?” you mumbled apologetically, embarrassed by your thoughts.

“As I was telling Captain Rogers, you seem to have a hairline fracture in your ulna, which could require support. You need to rest and take it easy for at least two weeks. Training will have to be put on hold, and I suggest you call a family member to take care of you in the meantime.” the doctor said, scribbling notes.

“Oh, that..won’t be necessary. I can do stuff on my own, I’ll be very careful.” you said with a grimace, not wanting to seem weaker in front of Steve.

“That’s not gonna happen.” Steve said, firmly. “She’ll stay in my quarters. It’s the least I can do after breaking her arm.”

You stared at him, a million things going through your head. You and him, in the confines of a room, alone. Oh no. This was going to be torturous in more way than one.

“Oh no no no, Captain. I couldn’t. I wouldn’t like to impose. Plus, I’m feeling better already! I’m sure it’s more than manageable. Please..I..I’ll be okay, really.” you rushed, pretty sure that your voice was betraying just how fast your heart was beating.

Steve smirked. “This isn’t up for debate. Plus, I’m sure it would be easier for the others to check up on you when we’re away on missions.” he said, taking the prescription from the doctor.

You winced as he helped you up from the bed, the warmth of his hand making you hyperaware about what your life was gonna be like for 2 weeks. You sighed. It was gonna be a loooong two weeks.

-------

You realised after a week that your worries had all been for naught. Steve was an excellent caretaker. He made sure you took all your medicines at the right time, ate properly and rested enough. He was also a thorough gentleman, always calling a lady nurse when you needed to take a shower or get dressed; really respected your boundaries. But you couldn’t deny the shift in his behaviour towards you. At first, you felt like you were reading into it too much, but then it started to get more noticeable. They were little things, but it meant so much. He would insist on having lunch with you, no matter if you were quiet or chatty; Steve always was there. He brought your favourite blanket from your chambers to make sure you felt more comfortable. At night, he would make sure you were comfortable, get you hot chocolate, maybe even sit next to you till you fell asleep. One time, he held your hand till you drifted off; but you were sure that you felt him leave a small peck on your cheek as you nodded off.

If you weren’t falling for him earlier, you sure as hell were now.

------

After hitting the two week mark, you went to the doctor again for a checkup. All seemed well, there was no need for a rod to be put in but the cast would have to stay on. Steve was there throughout the appointment, listening intently at everything the doctor said with his full focus. It was quite distracting and kinda hot, and you couldn’t help but sneak glances at him periodically. On one occasion, he caught your eye and grinned, catching you in the act. You wished the ground would swallow you up just then: this man fully well knew that you had a crush on him and was enjoying messing with you.

You nearly gasped as you felt his hand on your shoulder, guiding you to the lift. Something was different today. Steve seemed buoyant, which was very out of character for him.

“The nurse isn’t available today, she had some prior commitments. If it’s ok with you, I’ll be taking care of you tonight.” he said, softly. You gulped, his tone messing with your train of thought.

“Uh, that’s ok, I can manage things for a night. I’ve already imposed on you quite a bit and don’t want to create more of a hassle.”

Steve smiled. “Sweetheart, you’ve not been a hassle, trust me. It felt nice having you around, I enjoy your companionship. Just a few weeks more and you can get rid of me.” he said, with a mischievous grin. You groaned inwardly; this man was driving you nuts.

“Oh no, I really liked staying with you. You’re great company! I don’t think I want to get rid of you, ha.” you said in a flourish, mentally cursing yourself for being such a blabbering fool around him.

Steve looked at you, his eyes darkening. He stepped closer to you, opening his mouth to say something, but the elevator seemed to sense the tension rife in the air and opened at that exact moment. You both snapped out of the haze you were in with Steve beckoning you to his quarters, his hand resting softly on your back.

Back in your room, you realised you needed to take your nightly shower. You were about to call for the nurse, when you remembered that she wasn’t gonna come. Shit. You’d have to call Steve to help with your sling. Closing your eyes, you sighed before you walked to his room, praying to God that you would get through this. Just go in, get the brace off, and get out, you whispered to yourself. With that mantra in mind, you hesitantly knocked on his door. A muffled ‘come in’ reached you, and you timidly entered the lion’s den.

Steve was tinkering with the laptop, clearly engrossed in some work. You felt guilty disturbing him, but it was kind of an emergency.

“Is everything ok?”

“Yes, I..just needed some help with my sling; I tried to take it off, but it’s not coming off. Can you..unfasten it? I’ll be out of your hair in no time..”

Wordlessly, Steve sauntered over to you, turning you around to face the wall. Softly, his fingers undid the clasp of the sling, pulling the straps off your neck, his fingers grazing over your skin gently. You jerked, surprised by the small currents you felt with these small touches. Turning you around, he helped you take your arm out of the sling, his hands accidentally brushing the sides of your breasts. You didn’t dare make eye contact with him; you were sure you would say or do something you would regret later on.

“All done.” he whispered, his eyes not leaving yours. You realised he was merely inches away from your lips; the proximity driving you crazy.

“Thanks.” you mumbled, wanting to run out of the room.

“Are you going to bed? Do you need anything to drink?”

“Yes, I was just gonna head to bed after my shower.”

“You can shower here. I’d be able to keep an eye on you then and you won’t have to worry about any mishaps. See? Win-win.” he said with a grin.

You were about to decline his offer but stopped when he held up his hand. “You need to stop thinking that you’re a burden on me. I like doing things for you, it makes me feel like I’m not totally alone. These two weeks have undoubtedly been one of the best weeks in my life. I like you, and I know you like me. I just want to show you how much I care for you in my own, peculiar ways.” he said, taking your hand in his, drawing patterns on your knuckles softly.

Your mind raced with all the information. You never knew Steve felt this way, he was always so taciturn. Your gaze flitted to his face, his eyes darkening the way they did in the morning. He didn’t need words to convey what his eyes said; he felt the same way you did about him.

You melted as he raised your hand to his lips, placing a kiss which felt like petals grazing your skin. Leaning down, his lips inched closer to yours, his breath tickling your face.

“Tell me if I should stop, and I will.” he whispered.

You waited a beat before making your decision. Raising your lips to his, you touched his lips slightly before murmuring, “don’t stop.”

And that was it. You were lost in the maelstrom of emotions that was Steve kissing you. It started off sweet, with Steve engulfing your lips within his, taking his time to make sure you were enjoying. It turned heated the moment you ran your fingers through his hair, gently tugging on it. Steve ran his tongue over you, begging for entrance. You moaned and opened your mouth, prompting him to unite his tongue with yours, as if to memorise every inch of you. You broke apart, the need for air greater than your desire.

He picked you up and carried you to the bed, placing you on it carefully. Being extremely careful, he pulled off your tee, eyes widening as he took in your bare chest. Kneeling in front of you, he took off your sweatpants and your underwear, leaving soft but searing kisses at every inch of skin he exposed. You sharply inhaled, already feeling yourself get wet even though he hadn’t even touched you properly.

Lowering you to the bed tenderly, he made sure your arm was resting comfortably, placing a pillow underneath the appendage. Placing his hand next to your head, he kissed you deeply, pouring every emotion he felt into that kiss. You moaned as you felt his lips trail lower, leaving kisses along your neck, laving your pulse point. Moving lower, he kissed your breasts, leaving small bites along the way. Taking a swollen nub in his mouth, he sucked on it while massaging the other, prompting you to groan and run your uninjured hand through his hair, wanting him inside you.

While he moved his attention to your other breast, he trailed his fingers down your body, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He finally reached his destination, his fingers soft against your wet nether region.

“Steve, please..I need you..” you whispered in urgency. His intrepid fingers found your swollen nub and circled; gently at first, and then with more intensity. Moving lower, his digits swirled around your wet lips, before plunging into your tight channel. You gasped as he began thrusting, his knuckles bumping along your front wall, hitting your sweet spot. You had to refrain from arching your back, instead relegating to pulling his head down for a kiss. He increased his speed, adding another finger once he sensed how close you were. You shrieked as you reached your peak, breaking apart from the kiss.

As you opened your eyes, recovering from your orgasm, you saw Steve look at you, an unspoken question in his deep blue eyes. You nodded, cupping his cheek, running your thumb over his soft, soft skin. You don’t know what power he wielded over you, but it didn’t matter. You had no qualms being caught in this spell he wove.

Shedding his clothes, he returned to his place, widening your spread legs with his torso. Sitting back on his heels, he took in your body, his gaze running over every curve, every stretch mark, every beauty spot on your body. Taking his hard member in his hand, he gave a few strokes before lowering himself, running his nose against yours. He ran his tip along your wet folds before plunging into you in one swift move. You gasped and closed your eyes, your head falling back against the pillow. He gave you time to adjust to his size, your walls snug against him. After a moment, he began moving, careful to not move your arm. He started off slow, making sure you felt every inch of him. You hooked your legs around his hips, urging him to move faster. He took the hint, his pace increasing with each thrust. The coil in your belly was tightening and you could feel yourself hurtling towards completion for the second time. Running your hand along his back, your hand made it’s way to his ass, pushing down, begging him for more. Steve held himself up, looking deeply into your eyes, as he sped up his thrusts. You could feel him within you, each thrust hitting your weak spot over and over again.

You screamed his name as you reached your peak, your legs tightening around him; wrapping yourself around him like a vine. He was close too, his thrusts now becoming frantic as he was chasing his end. Your walls contracting around him set off his orgasm as he moaned, spilling every last drop of himself inside you. You both panted, as he dropped his head on your chest, trying to catch his breath. You both stayed like that for a while as you ran your fingers through his scalp, enjoying the feel of his weight on yours.

There were many things to talk about, sure.

But for now, this was more than enough.

-----

Tags: @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @donutloverxo @worksby-d @gotnofucks @imdarkinme @chris-butt @ozarkthedog

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mynumberfivethings · 3 years

Text

I Heard A Rumor...

They land back in 2019, which is a relief, of course, until it’s not.

“What the fuck even is the Sparrow Academy?” Diego grouses. “Lame ass bird fucks.” he chucks one of his knives across the cramped motel room they’re currently occupying and watches it get lodged firmly into the tacky wallpaper.

Allison grabs the second knife Diego’s about to fling out of his hand and glares daggers at her brother. “We’re staying here for free, because I rumored the motel staff into not noticing we exist, so maybe don’t wreck the place?”

Luther nods in agreement. “Allison’s right, we need to be as inconspicuous as possible right now.”

Diego rolls his eyes. “Whatever. So Five, now what?” the siblings all go to turn to Five for the answers they’re so desperately seeking, only to be met with the sight of the pseudo thirteen year old laid curled up on one of the beds, sound asleep.

Luther frowns. “How in the hell can he seriously sleep at a time like this?”

Allison leans over Fives still form and not so gently shakes his shoulder, jarring him awake. She feels a little guilt upon seeing the initially panicked look on his face as he comes to awareness once again, but damn it, she just wants to see her kid again, is that too much to ask?

“We need to figure out a way to get back to our timeline.” she tells him, arms folded over her chest.

Five scratches the sleep from his eyes, unaware he’d even passed out in the first place, wincing as he sits up fully on the mattress. “This is our timeline.” he informs all of them, his voice coming out scratchy and thin. God, he’s exhausted. And practically everything aches.

“What do you mean?” Klaus shakes his head. “In our timeline Ben is very much dead-not some weird emo douche who flocks with a crew of birds-so please do explain how the actual hell this makes any sense.”

Five sighs, “We changed the linear time of events and the order in which they were supposed to originally occur when we were in the sixties and now this is, for all intents and purposes, our timeline.”

“Screw that. We need to reestablish our actual timeline.” Allison counters. “I’m not staying in this weird alternate bullshit dimension any longer than we have to-we still have the suitcase, right? Let’s go back to the sixties and fix what we broke. Easy.”

Five looks at her like she’s lost her mind. Which, she very well may have, he thinks briefly. “Look, I know you want to see Claire again, but you need to consider-”

“No.” Allison interrupts angrily, tears starting to fill her eyes. “You don’t understand at all. How the hell could you? You haven’t had anyone for years, but me? I’ve had people, people I care about-which might be a foreign concept to someone like you, but-”

“Right,” Five cuts her off in turn, unwilling to linger on the sting her words have caused. “I just need time to-”

“Time? Haven’t you had enough of that, already?” Suddenly the room is engulfed in complete and utter darkness and the Hargreeves go into high alert, trying to figure out where the hell that voice is coming from.

Could it be one of the Sparrow Academy heroes? Could they have followed them to the outskirts of town?

“Show yourself, you coward!” Diego shouts, knives at the ready to attack their intruder.

A flash of thunder illuminates the room for only a split second before the lights come back on and the Hargreeves find themselves frozen in place, unable to move even a muscle, try as they might.

Save for one: Five.

“What the hell...” he mutters, as he watches his siblings struggle to try and move from their positions.

“Now, Allison.” that same disturbing voice commands.

Allisons eyes go wide as her mouth begins to move without her permission and out come the words, “I heard a rumor you killed your brothers and sisters.”

They watch with dawning horror as Fives eyes roll to the back of his head and turn an off shade of blue before he seamlessly plucks Diegos knife from where it was embedded in the wall earlier and faces his family, where they stand, helpless.

“Shit!” Diego curses, trying in vain to move even a single digit.

Vanya tries to conjure her own powers but finds that she can’t for some reason. “Five...” she calls out, knowing it’s futile.

Five blinks over to Klaus first, who yelps in surprise, he barely has time to beg Five to reconsider when Five brings the knife down-

There’s boisterous screaming and panicked yelling and general chaos and Klaus is so sure this is it, that Five has plunged the knife straight into his heart and done away with him, until he opens his eyes and realizes nothing is protruding out of him...

Instead, Five has thrust the knife into his own leg. He’s breathing hard, his trembling fingers still hovering over the hilt of the weapon.

The disembodied voice booms, “Allison!”

And Allison curses, but she can’t stop the words from tumbling out of her mouth. “I heard a rumor you stabbed me in the jugular.”

Fives eyes go pale blue for a second time and without even flinching he takes the knife out of his upper thigh and blinks so that he’s facing Allison this time.

They can all see him struggling, perspiring, fighting against the rumor as he brandishes the knife in one hand, raising it up above his head slowly.

Allison tries to let out another rumor, a contradicting rumor, perhaps, the way she had done when Five had been in front of Klaus, but again, the words get stuck in her throat.

Whatever being is in the room is in total control of her powers...

Allison feels something collide with her neck but it’s not the sharp sting of a knife she’s expecting. It’s Five’s forearm against her, protecting her from his own attack as he shoves the knife directly into his flesh. He’s panting now, with the force that it’s taken him not to obey her mind control.

“Kill them.” the voice demands angrily.

“Fuck you.” Five bites out through clenched teeth.

As if those were the magic words, the voice departs and the Hargreeves can feel their limbs and move about once again, the tense atmosphere dissipating.

“Holy shit!” Klaus gasps out, “What the fuck, Jesus!”

Five grunts as he removes the knife from his forearm and wields it threateningly. “Allison,” he practically begs, his voice strained. “Unrumor me. Now.”

Allison is more than happy to comply, hurriedly saying, “I heard a rumor you didn’t want us dead.”

The knife clatters as it hits the floor and Five collapses next to it a second later, exhausted and hurting something awful.

“Shit,” Diego grabs a bunch of hand towels from the bathroom and kneels down. “We gotta stop the bleeding.” He presses two towels against the stab wound on Fives forearm and Vanya grabs the rest to press against the one on his thigh.

Five tenses up beneath them, his face scrunching up in pain. “Fuck!”

“I saw a first aid kit in the lobby by the front desk, I’ll go get it!” Allison calls out, already halfway out the door in her haste.

“Should we move him to the bed?” Luther asks, hovering over his siblings, concern and anxiety eating away at him.

Diego curses. The hand towels are drenched in blood already. They need to stop the bleeding and soon, or else. “Elevate his leg.” he orders, letting Luther help Vanya try to stem the bleeding there. “Klaus, go get more towels from one of the maids if you can.” Klaus scurries to obey while the others continue to put pressure on Fives multiple injuries.

Klaus and Allison arrive back at the motel room almost simultaneously, one with a stack of clean towels in their arms and the other with a giant red box in hand.

With the extra towels and the supplies from the medical kit, they’re somehow able to stop the bleeding long enough to move Five up to the bed. Luther’s extremely gentle as he transfers him from one spot to the other.

When it’s time to stitch him up, Vanya and Klaus volunteer to do it. Five is too exhausted, both mentally and physically to pretend to be stoic about any of this. He throws his good arm across his face, shielding his eyes from the light.

“What do you guys think that was?” Luther asks the room at large, when the silence stretches on too long.

Klaus doesn’t look up from where he’s threading his needle on Fives thigh, replying dryly. “Yet another person place or thing that wants us dead?”

Diego scoffs. “It’s gotta be one of those Sparrow fuckheads. Who the hell else? I bet it was that goddamn cube-I still can’t believe dad adopted a fucking cube-Christ.”

“Whatever it was, it was in control of my powers.” Allison frowns deeply. “When I tried to unrumor Five nothing came out-even when I tried rumoring one of you into being able to move again, so that at least we would stand a fighting chance against our little serial killer over here, nothing.”

Vanya nods, “Same here. I tried to use my powers but it was like there was some kind of a block or something? Like when I was still taking those prescription pills.” She looks at Fives pale face-what she can see of it, from underneath his forearm-and risks the question, “Five, how did you manage not to....you know...?” As someone who’s had first hand experience being unwillingly rumored by their sister, she knows it’s not something one can easily brush off.

Quite frankly, it’s a miracle they’re all still breathing...

“Yeah, I thought for sure we were dead.” Diego walks over and playfully ruffles the top of Fives messy hair. “Good job not making yourself an only child.” he jokes, freezing entirely when in response to his teasing Five lets out what can only be described as a faint whimper.

“Five?”

“I almost killed everyone.” Five struggles to get the full sentence out, his breath hitching. “Fuck.” he curses, unable to stifle a sob. It’s a pathetically sad little noise, but it brings the rest of his siblings to his side immediately.

“Hey,” Allison kneels down beside the bed and places a careful hand on his knee. She feels him flinch underneath her. “You resisted my rumor-twice. Do you know how rare that is? You saved us.”

Five scrubs his face with the sleeve of his white button up shirt and finally uncovers his eyes. They’re red and puffy from crying, eyelashes wet with his tears. “I don’t want to be alone anymore.” he admits brokenly. “I can’t lose you guys again.”

“Shit Five,” Diego leans down and briefly touches their foreheads together, the palm of his hand cupping Fives head. “You’re not alone, we’re right here. Not going anywhere.”

Vanya nods determinedly. “That’s right. You’re stuck with us.”

Luther towers over the group with a faint but genuine smile. “You know, I always figured you loved us, but I guess I didn’t realize the extent until today.”

Five sniffles, wiping away more tears he can’t seem to stop from coming. “I would trade you all up for a decent cup of coffee.” he lies, feeling more exposed than he has in literal years.

Klaus smirks. “Nuh uh, no take backs, Fivey. You loooooove us.”

Five rolls his eyes but it doesn’t have quite the same effect it normally would, considering the fact that he is still very much crying.

Allison clears her throat, squeezes his knee again, this time to get his attention, and says, “And we love you. I’d ask if you know that, but honestly I think the answer would make me too sad.” she sighs. “Five, I’m really sorry about what I said before-I was taking all my frustrations out on you and I spoke carelessly, without thinking.”

Five shakes his head, overwhelmed. “It’s ok.”

“It’s not.” Allison insists. “Five, I don’t know if anyone’s said this yet, but I think it’s long overdue. I’m so happy to see you again. I missed you, you know. A ton.”

Five didn’t think he was childish enough to still need to hear such silly sentimental things. He’s not the type, he’s tried to convince himself. It’s not as though he was expecting some big tearful family reunion upon his arrival, after all. So he wasn’t crushed or anything when his return was met with little more than perhaps confused contemptment. He had things to do, apocalypses to stop and all that jazz.

That’s what he told himself, of course.

But it doesn’t ring very true now, not when he can’t help but let out another sob.

He’s too old for this, he thinks, as Diego pulls him gently to his side and Allison grabs hold of his hand.

He doesn’t need them to love him back, he thinks, as Klaus finishes taping up his wound with a tenderness only reserved for those he loves, as Vanya wraps gauze around his forearm with care.

He’s been fine all this time, he thinks, even as Luther says, “Good to have you back, Five.”

It’s good to be back, he thinks, turning his head so that it’s buried against Diego’s shoulder when he lets out another sob.

#tua #long post #fic #the umbrella academy #five hargreeves #number five #the boy #hurt/comfort #five gets rumored #hargreeves family #hargreeves siblings

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clusterbuck · 3 years

Note

"I would go anywhere with you."

Please and thank you 💕

50. "i would go anywhere with you."

eddie hangs up the phone, and his hands are shaking. buck wants to know what's going on—needs to know, desperately, what's going on—but he knows rushing eddie won't get him anywhere.

"that was the hospital," eddie finally says, staring at the phone still in his hand. "they, uh—they want me to come in. to talk about the scans."

"is something wrong?" buck asks before he can think better of it, then mentally kicks himself. of course something's wrong. they only ask you to come in when something's wrong.

it's two months since eddie was shot, and they're so close to having their lives back. eddie's doing better every day, almost back to his old self—or so they'd thought. it's only as this one phone call yanks the rug out from under their feet that buck realises just how much he's begun to consider it solid ground.

and now it might be about to split apart and swallow them whole.

"i don't know," eddie says, retreating into monotony the way buck has only seen him do when he's afraid, or very stressed. "it wasn't the doctor, it was—i don't know, some scheduling person. he just said to come in tomorrow."

"that's soon," buck says, moving to sit on the couch next to eddie. "soon is good, right?"

"or soon is really, really bad."

buck considers trying to talk eddie down, but he's been where eddie is. he knows how little hey, what's the worst that could happen? and all the other well-intentioned platitudes actually help, how most of the time all they do is make you actually consider the worst possible outcomes, realistic or not.

so all he does is reach across and take eddie's hand. eddie looks up, surprised, but he doesn't pull away.

"do you want me to come with you?" buck asks.

"you would do that?" eddie asks, and buck hates the note of uncertainty in his voice.

"eddie," he says, squeezing his hand. "i would go anywhere with you, you know that."

"okay," eddie breathes, barely audible, and then stronger, again: "okay."

buck drives to the hospital the next day, and they're both quiet on the way over. eddie still hasn't said a word by the time they make it to the waiting area, and buck is just about to tell a truly abysmal joke to drag him out of his own head when the doctor calls eddie's name. buck stands up to follow without hesitation, and eddie nods in quiet, wide-eyed confirmation.

they've barely had time to settle into the uncomfortable plastic chairs when the doctor starts talking. "so, first things first, your scans look great," he says, and buck can practically feel the downdraft from eddie's jaw dropping. "everything is healing just like it should," the doctor continues, like he's unaware of the bomb he's just dropped.

"but—" eddie says weakly.

"yes?" the doctor asks. "is something wrong? are you having a lot of pain?"

"no, i just—" eddie says, and trails off, like he doesn't have the words.

"i think, uh, both of us are just accustomed to—usually if you have to come in, it's bad news," buck supplies, and the doctor's face softens.

"did they not tell you on the phone?" he asks, and eddie shakes his head. "i'm so sorry," the doctor continues. "i'll have a word with scheduling. i'm really sorry for the unnecessary stress."

"so why did you need me to come in?" eddie asks, finally finding his voice again.

"just a routine checkup, really, and i wanted to make sure your prescriptions are up to date..."

buck doesn't hear the rest of the conversation over the relief humming under his skin.

they're quiet as they walk out to buck's jeep, but it's a quiet that is entire universes away from the nervous silence of the drive over. it's buzzing with energy, with potential, with tension, until they reach the car and buck can't take it any longer.

he grabs eddie and pushes him up against the jeep. they're so close their foreheads are touching and buck looks eddie right in the eye, gives him time to indicate this isn't something he wants, one second, two, three—

buck leans in to close the last remaining distance between them just as eddie surges up to meet him. it's tender and frenetic all at once, relief spilling back and forth between them, fizzy like carbonation in their veins; somewhere in the background is something heavier, something slow and sweet like molasses that tastes a lot like love.

they're both breathing heavily by the time they break apart. eddie looks up at buck, his bashful eyes an odd contrast to his kiss-bitten bottom lip. "what was that for?" he murmurs.

"that was for not being about to die on me," buck says, and eddie laughs.

"death was never on the table, you know that, right?" eddie says. "buck, tell me you know that."

but buck just grins. "are you really trying to argue with me right now?"

"definitely not," eddie agrees, and leans in to kiss him again.

so basically what happened here is... you know that bit in the good place where michael wants the file and janet keeps giving him the cactus? that, but the file is fluffy prompts about love and the cactus is angst

i very nearly ended it on the angst bit but these are supposed to be about love lol

send me a prompt from this list of ways to say i love you!

#buddie #buckupbuttercup #thanks for the prompt!!#ask emma #emma writes

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heyitssmiller · 3 years

Text

Clandestine: Chapter Eleven

I... about 75% of this chapter was not in the outline, and I don’t really know what to do about that fact. This completely ran away from me, but that’s ok I guess.

Characters, as always, belong to the amazing @lumosinlove and a huge thanks again to @donttouchmycarrots for proofreading!! <3

Clandestine Masterlist

CW: hospitals, injury, brief mention of blood, medical drugs

Leo slept. A lot.

Logan knew this was normal; their nurse had reiterated it a few times now. When he did wake up, it was only for a few dazed, confused minutes before he was pulled back under again. The confusion ebbed the more time went on, the effects of anesthesia wearing off, but the dull sheen to his eyes remained. He could fight his way through a brief conversation with him or Finn, and then he was back to sleep. It was probably for the best, Logan told himself. Better than dealing with their present situation, at least.

Finn was curled up uncomfortably in the chair beside him, also sleeping. He normally looked peaceful when he was asleep – lips slightly parted, face relaxed, on his side or stomach with one hand usually shoved under his pillow. After about a week of sharing a hotel room and a bed, Logan knew these things. It wasn’t the same now. Granted, he was in a chair instead of a bed, but still. He was curled up somewhat in a ball, with the leg in a brace stretched out and immobile – an awkward position that almost made him look like a flamingo balancing on one leg. His shoulders were tense, even in sleep, and his jaw was clenched tight. A worry line was furrowed between his eyebrows, steadfastly refusing to smooth out. Logan brushed his knuckles faintly against the bruise on his cheek, plum against porcelain, and sighed. He knew he should be doing the same thing – sleeping, that is – but every time he closed his eyes… well. It wasn’t pretty. Besides, someone needed to keep an eye out. There was only so long the nurse could delay the GSW report.

It was only a matter of time before they were on the run again.

Regulus drifted in and out on occasion, checking in on them. He seemed to be on guard, constantly walking the perimeter of the hospital and keeping an eye out for familiar faces. It put Logan on edge and calmed him down at the simultaneously. He didn’t trust Regulus, not really, but he figured if he was going to sabotage them he would’ve done so already. He’d had ample opportunity, after all.

Logan glanced at the clock. They’d been here for just shy of twenty-four hours now. The sun was starting to rise again, not bringing any answers with it. Loops had been in contact, briefly. They’d received one text message that simply said “stay put” and radio silence after that. He just hoped they had a good plan. Even better if it was safe, too, but Logan wasn’t about to push their luck… if you could even call it that.

For now, this was ok. They were together, they were alive, and they were relatively safe, for now. In that moment, listening to the steady beeps of a monitor and muffled conversations of people in the hallway outside their door and the even breathing of his partners, he couldn’t ask for much more.

***

Nate saw the scowling, intimidating group of people in the lobby and knew they were in trouble.

He had just started today’s shift, still tired from the one the day before, and was in the process of saying his usual hello to the staff working the front desk when he saw them. There were three of them – at least two of which were over six feet tall, looming and muscular and intense. One had a scar traversing down one side of his face, healed but still a beacon that screamed “don’t mess with me”. The short, scary one was right.

He’d submitted the GSW report about ten minutes ago, and here they were.

Fuck.

Nate didn’t even say goodbye to the sweet lady working the desk that day, he just backed away slowly and tried to appear normal as he pushed past the doors. As soon as they closed he broke into a run, headed straight for room 308 and stopping by the nurse’s station for a split second to grab two prescriptions before he was off again. He was almost there when he crashed into someone as he rounded a corner, only avoiding hitting the ground by two arms that snaked out to steady him. He looked up to gray eyes and a vaguely familiar face.

“Sorry.” The guy said and let go of him, frowning when he saw what was no doubt a look of panic on Nate’s face. “You ok?”

He remembered this guy now. He was with the scary short guy and the other two. He wasn’t around much, but Nate had seen him a few times when he’d been making his rounds.

“They’re here.” He blurted, hoping that he didn’t need so say anymore.

He didn’t. in the blink of an eye he was leading the way to room 308 and throwing the door open, which Nate didn’t think was the best idea. He didn’t know what these people did for a living, but it was clearly dangerous. Barging in like that probably wasn’t a good move.

Sure enough, when Nate followed Gray Eyes into the room, the short one was on his feet and had pulled a gun from somewhere, aiming it at the two of them. Gray Eyes stuck his arm out and kept Nate from going any further until Short Angry One recognized them.

Nate used to think this was a relatively safe career path. Sure he might get puked on, yelled at, mentally and emotionally eviscerated by doctors and patients and family members alike on a regular basis, but he’d never felt like his life was in danger.

Maybe he should go into accounting. Just him in an office with a bunch of numbers. Or a museum curator, surrounded by ancient artifacts and not much else. Definitely not people pointing guns at you.

Both the redhead and the blond woke up at the disturbance, one sitting up in a flash and the other just blinking sleepily and frowning in concern. Before anyone else could get a word in edgewise, Gray Eyes blurted out, “They’re here.”

The EKG readings on the monitor spiked, and then it was a flurry of motion. Short Angry One cursed under his breath and pulled Gray Eyes and Nate into the room fully, closing the door behind them. The redhead started throwing the few things they had into his pockets – a phone, some other electronic device Nate couldn’t identify, an old lock, a pen. He shoved his shoes on, unsteady on his feet, and looked to the blond, who was still in a hospital gown and watching with wide eyes. All the color that had been slowly returning to his cheeks was now gone.

Nate steeled his resolve. His job was to save lives, damnit, and that’s what he was going to do.

He jumped into action, pushing Gray Eyes out of the way and unhooking his patient from the monitors before discontinuing the IV drip and pulling the IV out, stopping the bleeding with quick pressure from his hand. “There’s an employee exit down the hall that leads to the parking garage. You guys know how to hotwire a car, by any chance? I’d offer you mine but I don’t have one.”

“I can.” Glaring down at his sling, the blond muttered, “Well. Maybe can is the wrong word.”

Nate let up on the pressure, shrugged his thin jacket off, and helped him slide his good arm through the sleeve, throwing the other side around his shoulder gently. It wouldn’t do much to help, but it was better than nothing. “Can you show someone else how to do it?”

“Maybe.” He said, moving to swing his legs over the edge of the bed and frowning when Nate stopped him. “I can walk.”

Nate smiled. Typical. “That’s what they all say. I’m going to grab a wheelchair, anyways. You’ll be faster that way.” He looked at the others in the room and continued. “I’ll lead you to the exit, but I’m afraid that’s as far as I can take you. I’ll try to find these guys and get them off your trail as best I can.”

He shoved the two prescriptions he was so glad he’d filled last night at Ginger, trying to ignore the way all of them seemed to be staring at him. “Instructions are on the labels. He needs to finish all the antibiotics. All of them.” He didn’t have time to stress the importance of preventing antibiotic resistance, but he hoped they would take his word for it. “Let me go get-”

The door opened again and they all swiveled towards it. Ginger stepped between the blond and the door while Short One raised his gun again – but he didn’t shoot. In fact he just stared for a second, then lowered his gun with a smile.

“Loops.” He said, relieved, and – what?

The three men Nate had seen earlier were ushered into the room, the tallest one slapping the brunet on the shoulder, causing him to stumble as he flipped the safety of his gun back on and stashed it in the waistline of his pants.

The one in the front with caramel colored eyes looked between their group, one eyebrow arched. “Going somewhere? I thought I told you to stay put.”

Ginger laughed incredulously, shoulders slumping. “Holy shit, Loops. We thought you were someone else.”

Gray Eyes looked at Nate, exasperation clear in his gaze. “You told me they were here.”

Nate threw his arms up in defense. “You look at those guys and tell me you wouldn’t be suspicious.” He winced and looked at the newcomers, realizing that his words might be offensive. “Sorry.”

Neither of them seemed to take it to heart. The tall one just grinned and said, in a heavily-accented voice, “We still got it, eh, Nado?”

The one with the scar – Nado, apparently – just rolled his eyes and didn’t comment, but Nate could see one side of his mouth lifting into a smile. It softened his face, made him look more like a teddy bear than the scary, intimidating guy he’d seen in the lobby.

“We’ve got a car out back.” The one called Loops said, looking to the blond with gentle, understanding eyes. “You good to go?”

He nodded firmly, no room for second-guessing. “Let’s do this.”

Now, Nate didn’t exactly think it was a good idea to move a GSW patient out of a hospital only a day after getting shot, but – judging by how the others had reacted at the thought of people coming for them – it was safer for him to leave than to stay here. His brain, after all those years of medical classes and caffeine/anxiety induced all-nighters, was screaming in horror about complications and sepsis and bone fragments, but he didn’t voice them. He just reached for a pen and paper in his pocket. He scribbled his number down and handed it to his patient. “If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to ask, ok? I’d feel much better if you at least had a nurse with you, but this’ll have to do.”

He got a warm smile in response. “Thanks,” he said, voice and eyes serious. “For everything. Not many people would do what you did for us.”

Nate blinked. “I genuinely don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing, but thanks?” He still didn’t know who exactly he was helping, but then again, he guessed it didn’t really matter either way. They seemed like good people dealing with a shitty situation, and that was a good enough motive for him. “I’m going to grab that wheelchair quickly and I’ll be right back.”

He should’ve known that, by the time he got back, they’d already be gone – leaving no trace except for the disheveled sheets on the bed, two chairs next to it instead of the standard one, and the still humming machines and monitors.

Nate let himself slump against the wheelchair, forearms resting against the handles.

“What the fuck,” he said, with feeling.

***

Sirius was behind the steering wheel of a very old service van, watching six of them pile into the back and Loops slide into the passenger’s seat. His eyes didn’t stray long from Regulus, though. If he’d had enough time, he would’ve tackled his younger brother in a hug. Unfortunately, they were on a bit of a tight schedule. “Petition to never have to break someone out of a hospital again.” He said wryly, putting the van into drive and searching for the exit to the maze that was this parking garage. All the while, he was sneaking glances in the rearview mirror, unable to help himself.

“Where do I sign?” Finn deadpanned from the back row, sandwiched between Logan and Leo. They looked so tired. Leo didn’t hesitate to twist in his seat a little so that he could lean into Finn’s chest and close his eyes, looking absolutely miserable. Finn shifted just slightly, pressing a barely-perceptible kiss to a bird’s nest of curls and relaxing back into his seat.

Huh.

That was… new.

But then again, was it? Sirius thought back to the past several months of this operation and found that he really wasn’t that surprised. But then there was Logan…

“Turn left here.” Remus said, pulling him out of the thoughts, calm and in control like usual. His lips turned up into a smile as he flicked his turn signal on. He could see them doing exactly this, when all the chaos was said and done. Taking a roadtrip, Sirius behind the wheel and Remus navigating, going wherever they felt like. No worries or missions, just the two of them and the black top below them. He shelved the daydreaming for later.

“Where are we going?”

Sirius’ eyes flew back to the mirror at his brother’s voice – the first time he’d head it un-obscured by a phone or earpiece in too long. He’d missed him. He’d fought so hard for him, to get him out of that mess and keep him safe, and here he was. They’d done it.

Was he a horrible person, for feeling as relieved as he did? He’d inadvertently put the Cubs through hell for mostly selfish reasons. Sure, he wanted to take the Snakes down, but that paled in comparison to the safety of his brother. He’d let the Snakes walk away scot-free if it meant Reg was safe.

He didn’t know what kind of person that made him – he was too afraid to speculate about it.

“My family has a cabin about two hours away,” Remus replied, balancing his phone with the navigation app against the center console so that Sirius could see it. “It’s empty right now, so it’s a perfect hideout until we figure out next steps.”

Finn was asleep now, too, head pillowed on Leo’s. Logan stared sightlessly out the window beside them, stonily silent. Sirius ached for him. They were kindred spirits, he and Logan. Stubborn, fierce, bleeding hearts who cared too much and shouldered more than their fair share of the responsibility when things went wrong.

And things had really gone wrong.

“What are the next steps?” Reg asked as they left the city and headed towards the interstate. “This isn’t the only backup we’ve got, right?”

“Sleep,” Kuny told Regulus, not unkindly, “had big couple of days, yes? Plan later.”

Reg looked at the tall Russian sitting next to him for a second, then sighed and turned his gaze to the window.

Sirius drove on in silence.

Two hours and eighteen minutes later, he was pulling up on a gravel driveway to a quaint, two-story cabin. The jostling of the gravel under their tires seemed to wake everyone up, according to the grumbles and yawns Sirius could hear from behind him as he finally put the van in park. The doors opened and they were all climbing out of the van, stretching stiff muscles and groaning. The ones with bags in the trunk went to unload while Remus fished his keys out of his pocket and headed for the front door, bounding up the last two steps to the porch. He was equal parts glad and upset that they were here. He was grateful that the Cubs were safe now and that this cabin was so far off the grid that the Snakes wouldn’t find them. But bringing a bunch of coworkers to the place he went to escape work stuff… jeez. Not that he didn’t like his coworkers, but sometimes he needed a break from it all. Plus this place belonged to his family. Being here with anyone but them just felt wrong.

Remus opened the door, instantly on guard when he saw the kitchen light was on. Whoever was in there must’ve heard the door because Remus could hear the refrigerator door close, then loud footsteps headed towards them. His hand drifted to his gun and he cautiously flicked the safety off.

A head peeked out from the kitchen. All-too-familiar eyes widened excitedly. “Re?”

The safety quickly went back on. “Jules?”

He wasn’t supposed to be there. Their trip wasn’t for another week-

Remus’ younger brother beamed and launched himself towards him, leaping into Remus’ arms when he got close enough with an excited shout.

“What are you doing here? I thought you couldn’t make it this trip!”

“What am I – what are you doing here?” Remus shot back, tensing up when he heard footsteps behind him. “Your trip is supposed to be next week!”

“School got cancelled because of all the snow.” Jules peered around Remus at the gathering group behind him. “Who are they?”

“Jules?” The familiar voice of their mother called from down the hall. “Who are you talking to, honey?”

Oh god, this was something straight out of Remus’ nightmares. How the fuck was he supposed to explain all this to his family? The rest of their agents were supposed to drive up here tomorrow with gear and supplies and weapons for their final stand against the Snakes. That… there was no way to explain that. At all.

Fuuuuuuck.

Hope Lupin stepped around the corner, startling when she saw the crowd on her doorstep. “Remus?”

“I’m so sorry, mom,” he blurted, the words coming out in an unfiltered rush. “I didn’t know you’d be up here or else I would’ve-”

“Oh, nonsense. We’re happy to have you and your… friends.” She said sweetly, voice raising into an almost-question at the end. Remus, flying blind, said the first thing that came to mind.

“They’re work friends. And there’s a few more coming tomorrow, if that’s ok.”

“What happened to him?” Jules interrupted, wide eyes trained on Leo, who smiled faintly.

“Shoulder surgery,” Leo said easily, taking Remus by surprise a little at how easily he responded with a textbook spy tactic: tell the truth, but only enough to not raise suspicion. He technically wasn’t lying, either. It was harder to get caught lying when you technically hadn’t.

It seemed like the rookie was no longer a rookie.

“It was recent, wasn’t it?” Hope asked, eyes sharp with observation as she ushered them all inside. When Leo looked at her a little distrustfully and both Logan and Finn stiffened beside him, she sent them all a soothing smile. “I’m a nurse, I can tell.”

“About a day and a half ago.” Leo let her lead them to a couch and sat down, answering Hope’s questions calmly now, seeming to know she could be trusted. When Remus looked around again, he noticed that Sirius and Regulus were both absent, no doubt having a much-needed talk. He was struck with a twinge of worry, but pushed it back. He shouldn’t interfere. They needed some time alone to sort through things. Sirius would talk to him about it if he felt like it. Nado and Kuny were trying to sneak their way into the kitchen, looking for whatever smelled so good in there. For spies, they weren’t very subtle.

“What kind of shoulder surgery?” Jules asked, trailing after their mom. “Re had one a few years ago, too!”

Remus winced and shot Leo an apologetic look for his over-inquisitive brother. “Not quite the same, Jules.”

“All he does is sleep now,” Finn said teasingly as he took a step back and stretched out his leg with only a slight wince. “My jacket has drool all over it from the car ride here.”

Leo shot Finn an unheated glare as he sat up and opened his mouth to shoot back a reply when all of a sudden he went pale as a sheet, eyes dazed. Everyone in the room froze, looking at him nervously.

Finn was kneeling in front of him in a flash, Logan already holding his hand too tightly from his spot beside him. “Leo?”

The blond squeezed his eyes shut and leaned into Logan heavily. “Hurts,” he managed to grit out while Logan wrapped an arm around his waist and held him close, combing his fingers through a riotous mess of curls. He locked gazes with Finn and saw a different kind of pain from Leo’s, but identical to Logan’s, reflected there as he watched helplessly.

Maybe they should’ve accepted the risks and stayed at the hospital. They’d be sitting ducks there, but at least it wouldn’t be this. Logan would take the uncomfortable chairs and the nurse who talked too much and the stress over the heavy weight pressed against him, the shaky, too-measured breaths, the soulful brown eyes that matched his own.

It felt like all the decisions he’d been making recently were the wrong ones. It would be nice to not put his partners through pain because of his poor decisions for once.

Hope was by their side then, holding out a glass of water and two pills. Logan hadn’t even noticed Finn set the prescriptions down on the entryway table. “I think it’s time to take these now.” Leo refused to move from his current spot, but he took the pills and followed them with a quick drink of water. A muffled “thank you” was murmured into the material of Logan’s shirt, quiet and a little tense.

Hope just smiled sympathetically. “You’re probably going to get really sleepy in the next thirty minutes or so,” she continued, giving the three of them a look. Like she knew something. “So if there’s any conversations that can’t wait until the morning…”

Loops came by his eerie observation skills naturally, it seemed.

Logan looked to Remus and the others, hoping that all the planning could wait until the morning. They were exhausted. Surely they’d be ok without them for a few hours.

“Go get some rest,” Loops said gently, motioning down the hallway. “There’s a guest bedroom down there, second door on the left. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

Finn made a beeline for the bathroom as soon as they reached the bedroom, muttering about how he’d needed to use the restroom since they’d all piled into the van. Leo toed off his shoes while Logan hovered, unsure if he should offer to help or not, his heart still in his throat. Leo just sent him a weary, affectionate smile. It tugged viciously at Logan’s heart and made him want to pull his partner close and not let go. Ever.

“I’m ok, sweetheart.”

He could’ve cried at the relief of hearing that nickname again. “You sure?” He asked, just to be safe.

Leo’s face was inscrutable as he cautiously sat down on the bed. “If I keep telling myself that… eventually I’ll start to believe it, right?”

Logan didn’t have an answer to that, not at first. But he remembered the feeling from after missions that had gone belly-up, the few that he wasn’t sure he was going to make it out of. The disbelief that somehow, after all of that, he was still alive and ok. It felt like trying to find his way through a snowstorm when all he could see was blinding, overwhelming white.

He wasn’t about to let Leo navigate that without a guide.

He sat down next to Leo and grabbed his hand, moving down to the pulse-point at his wrist and feeling tendons flex and shift under his fingertips. It beat, steady and strong, when he pressed down lightly. He knew Leo could feel it, too.

“You’re here.” Logan said simply. It was a tactic he used on bad days, when everything got to be too much. That little pulse, a sign of life and resilience. The two of them shared that now, that resilience and refusal to die that flowed through their veins.

Leo stared at him, eyes so soft and a hue that Logan wanted to engrave into his memory. “Logan,” he said quietly, right as Finn flung the bathroom door open again. His mouth was in the process of opening to tell a joke when he saw the two of them and snapped it shut again with an audible click, unsure of what to do next.

Leo shared a look with Logan and a conversation passed between the two, silent but apparently crystal clear. Finn couldn’t quite tell if it was excitement or anxiety dancing in his stomach, but either way he wasn’t sure he liked the sensation.

He had a feeling he knew what was coming. They’d been tip-toeing around this conversation for too long now, and they’d finally reached the tipping point. However this conversation went, he knew their relationship would never be the same, and that scared him. There was comfort in things known and familiar, after all.

This felt like hanging out of a perfectly-good plane and not knowing if the parachute strapped to his back was going to work or not.

But everyone who took the jump said it was worth it, in the end. Finn desperately hoped they were right.

“I think we should talk.” Logan said quietly, patting the open spot on the bed next to him. The dreaded words. No one ever wanted to hear those words.

Finn made his way towards them, too afraid to make eye contact, and sat down gingerly. Feet firmly planted on the floor, one hand braced on the bed, tense and ready to get up and take flight if he felt like he needed to. “We’re finally going to have this conversation, huh?” he asked with a fake laugh that fell flat, finally glancing up. Looking at the two of them, side by side and seeming to just know each other in a way Finn felt like he didn’t, he wondered where he fit into all of this.

If he fit in at all.

God, he hoped he fit in.

“Look,” Leo started, voice steady and resolute like he was getting ready to rip off the proverbial bandaid. It did nothing to calm Finn down. “Logan and I talked a while ago, about us. And, um – well, we want to be together. All three of us.”

Finn blinked once, twice. The words weren’t exactly computing, not after spending so long telling himself that this would never happen, could never happen. “Oh.”

“You had to know,” Logan said, sounding confused. “You had to know how we felt. None of us were exactly subtle.”

“I… I hoped.” Finn managed to get out before he got distracted by Logan’s soft touch against the curve of his cheekbone, creating his own constellations out of the freckles there. Finn let his eyes close and focused on the point of contact. He had hoped, even if he’d tried to stamp it out most days. He’d hoped and he’d yearned and he’d ached, and now – finally, unbelievably – he might be getting exactly what he’d wanted. “I knew how the two of you felt about each other, I just… wasn’t sure where that left me.”

“Finn…” He heard the sheets rustle as Leo scooted closer and opened his eyes again.

“Can you blame me?” Finn let Leo hold his hand and slot their fingers together, a painfully delicate motion. He stared down at them, noticing faint green bruising from an IV line and deeper, purple discoloration from that one time Finn tried to catch himself before he hit the ground after a brutal punch. They matched, in a sick, twisted way.

But they were both healing – skin stitching itself slowly back together and aches fading little by little. There was a poignant symbolism there, Finn thought, musing over the words he needed to say. Talking about the doubts and the hurt and the confusion surrounding the three of them might be painful in the moment, but healing would always follow, even if it took a while.

He was thrilled that they wanted him, don’t get him wrong, but that didn’t have the ability to just wipe away the hurt of the past week. “You seemed happy together, just the two of you.” He thought of the coffee shop and watching them from his table with June. Or the hotel room the next day, the stolen glances and furtive touches. “I didn’t want to get in the way of that, not if I wasn’t wanted.”

One of the other two made a broken sound; Finn wasn’t sure who it was. The hand on his cheek moved to his chin and Logan ducked his head to meet Finn’s eyes again, fierce and sincere – a combination that encompassed the very core of the fighter.

“I’ve wanted you since that crazy New Year’s party.” He said with conviction and Finn laughed a little at the memories.

“Then why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“Why didn’t you?” Logan challenged, signaling a change in the winds. Finn could see the storm brewing in those green eyes. “We were partners. Adding a relationship to the mix would only complicate things.”

“So what changed?” Finn let his frustration bleed through, ignoring Leo’s squeeze to his hand. “You’re saying two completely different things right now and it’s confusing as hell.”

Logan bit back, voice suddenly loud and harsh. “You think this is how I wanted to fall in love?”

Leo and Finn stared at him. No one had mentioned love. Not yet, at least. Logan seemed to recognize the intensity of his words and his shoulders slumped, but he didn’t take them back. Finn wasn’t sure if he was grateful for that or terrified because of it.

“It’s not supposed to be this hard, is it?” the brunet asked, voice a softer murmur. “Why couldn’t the three of us be normal and meet at, like, college or a coffee shop or something?”

Silence greeted him, heavy and suffocating.

“Because these are the cards we were dealt,” Leo said finally, looking between the two of them. “And yeah, it might be a shitty hand, but don’t you think it’d be worth it? After all that we’ve been through, choosing each other instead of letting the fear pull us apart?”

“Sounds like something out of a romance novel.”

Leo shrugged his good shoulder at Logan’s words, a conscientious effort to keep the other side of his body completely still. Finn ached a little at the sight. “Love isn’t easy, not for anyone. It’s a choice you make, day after day.” Blue eyes the color of a cloudless afternoon sky were calm and free of conflict when he looked at them again. “I’ve made my choice. What about you?”

Finn stared at him for what felt like forever, then blurted, “Did you rehearse that or something? What the fuck, Nutty.”

The resulting smile on Leo’s face was a welcomed reprieve from the earlier storm, placid and radiant. How was Finn supposed to do anything else but lean over, cup his cheeks in his hands, and press his lips against that smile?

Leo kissed a little distractedly, like he wasn’t quite sure what he wanted to do first. The hand not caught in a sling flitted from auburn hair to fist in his t-shirt, then migrated lower to wrap around Finn’s back, long fingers splayed against his spine. But his mouth was soft and sweet against Finn’s, returning his kisses happily, and the combination of the two were just so Leo that Finn’s stomach swooped and his heart flopped in his chest.

He pulled back for air, an unfortunate necessity, and took in the sight in front of him. Leo’s eyes were still closed and that smile still graced kiss-swollen lips as he swayed towards Finn, clearly wanting more. Finn smiled too, irrevocably charmed, and kissed his cheek, his jaw, that cute little indent in his chin, then the curve of his smile again. He could never, not in a hundred years, get enough of this.

And then Logan met his gaze from beside the blond, eyes fond and warm as he watched them and ran his fingers up and down Finn’s thigh, the motion raising goosebumps on Finn’s arms – the air dense and volatile around them like the instant before lightning struck. Finn needed to kiss him, too. To learn the difference between the way he kissed to keep up pretenses on a mission and the way he kissed when he meant it. Finn kept Leo close with a hand on his waist and tilted Logan’s head up to kiss him, deep and intense. It was thrilling and a little wild; so different from kissing Leo, but just as captivating. Always unpredictable, the kiss morphed from charged to surprisingly, achingly gentle – a thunderstorm melting into a comforting spring shower. Finn was reminded of shoving the couch up against the wall nearest to the window during storms as a kid, watching the raindrops track down the glass, and the sound of the world going silent save for the wind and the thunder and the rain hitting the roof like the pounding of drums – a symphony just for him to witness. He sighed against soft lips and sank into the kiss, listening for the intricacies of this new, unknown melody.

The rustle of clean sheets, a hitch in breath followed by a deep exhale, the steady beat of the old clock hung on the wall, a hum against his lips.

Then Leo was leaning in to kiss Finn’s pulse-point, firm enough to bruise and tender enough to make Finn’s eyelashes flutter. Finn canted his head to the side, stretching his neck to give Leo more skin to claim, and pulled Logan in again. A duet shifting to a trio and slotting perfectly into place, patching the gaps in the music that Finn didn’t even notice were there.

This was worth it. It had to be. As much as it would kill him – or any of them, really – to love them and then lose them, that would still be better than not loving them at all.

They’d wanted this for so long now, all of them. Even with all the stress and hurt and doubt, Finn couldn’t help but feel a little giddy. For fuck’s sake, he was kissing Logan. It wasn’t part of a mission. And Leo was still pressing kiss after kiss to his neck because he wanted to. They wanted each other.

Screw panicking about losing them. Finn was done missing things because he was worried about things that might not even happen. It wasn’t something he could just will away or turn off, of course, but he could actively make sure he was living in the current moment. And right then, the current moment was making out with his boys in a cabin in the middle of nowhere.

He loved the current moment.

The kiss turned to simply smiling against Logan’s mouth, delirious with contentment, so Finn broke away and pulled Logan in for a hug, then gently maneuvered Leo to join them, making sure his wound was well out of the way. They stayed like that for a long time, relaxing in the closeness and adjusting to the newness of all of this. And even though it was new, it was already something they were quickly getting addicted to. The string connecting Finn’s heart to theirs cinched tighter and pulled sharply. For the first time, he didn’t mind it in the slightest. It was no longer a painful reminder of what he couldn’t have, it was an exhilarating sign that were all irreversibly intertwined, both in each other’s arms and in this crazy mess that was their lives.

Leo interrupted the moment with a yawn, blinking sleepily. Finn smiled a little at the sight – he almost felt like he was doing too much of that in the past few minutes, but sleepy Leo was simply adorable.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed.” Logan urged. It would be a tight squeeze, the three of them in that bed, but now they could cuddle and press close without pretending it didn’t happen the next morning. Finn sighed happily at the thought and headed for the light switch. The light from the lamp on the bedside table illuminated his way back to his boys, all soft and stretched out next to each other under a pale comforter. It was a much-needed reprieve from the chaos of their current situation that Finn was all to eager to take advantage of.

He watched as Logan propped himself up on one arm to look down at Leo, hand trailing through that tuft of gray hair and then tugging on it playfully. They shared a smile before Logan leaned down the rest of the way to kiss him, assured and familiar and unrushed. They’d done this before. The knowledge didn’t tear at Finn’s heart like it would have a week ago, because now he knew that they felt the same way about him. And he was falling for them, too. Watching the two boys he was half in love with already so comfortable and loving with each other? How was Finn supposed to handle all the emotions bubbling over in his chest? He crawled into bed next to Logan and flicked the lamp off, settling the room into darkness.

Logan settled in to sleep facing Finn and with Leo’s reassuring warmth behind him. His eyes closed and time slowed, a blessed mercy. The events of tomorrow felt years away in that still, quiet moment. But there was something prodding at the back of Logan’s mind – some strange, uncomfortable feeling that he could quite place, until he realized that everything was too still, too quiet. His mind flashed to the litany of “what ifs” that had looped in his brain like a mantra back in that hospital room and he rolled over quickly, shuffling over until his head was pillowed on Leo’s chest, far away from the bandages.

Thump-thump.

Leo’s chest rose and fell under Logan’s head as he breathed and Logan let himself relax, reaching blindly behind him until he found Finn’s arm and flung it over himself, loosely intertwining their fingers over his chest. Finn moved in closer to press against his back and tangle their legs together. He sighed before going still again, breaths deep and even.

And Logan finally, finally let himself drift off to sleep.

#lumosinlove #sweater weather #coast to coast #coops #remus lupin #sirius black #o'knutzy #finn o'hara #logan tremblay #leo knut #clandestine #cw: hospital #cw: injuries #cw: mentions of blood #cw: medical drugs

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